


Cold to the Touch

by Furiyan



Category: Frozen - Fandom, Rise of the Guardians (2012)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Crossover Pairings, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-18
Updated: 2015-03-29
Packaged: 2018-02-26 04:23:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 42
Words: 236,446
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2637953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Furiyan/pseuds/Furiyan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jackson Overland had a happy life. He loved his mother and his sister dearly, and cherished every day he had with them. Then one day, it all came crashing down.</p>
<p>Determined to keep everyone at arm's length, intent to remain invisible and alone, he covers his heart with an impenetrable wall of ice. His pain was his to bear, and his alone. He would let no-one in.</p>
<p>Then he met her; the woman who would bring the wall down and bring out the true Jackson Overland.</p>
<p>Rated M for adult language, sexual themes and attempted sexual assault.</p>
<p>I do not own Frozen, Rise of the Guardians, Tangled, How to Train Your Dragon or Brave - or any of the characters therein.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cigarettes and Memories

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there! 
> 
> Cold to the Touch is sort of the AU sister fanfiction to my other piece Timeless. I have five chapters done so far, and I must say I am immensely enjoying writing this particular fanfic.
> 
> Comments, kudos and criticisms are appreciated and encouraged.  
> Happy reading!

Jackson Overland was pretty much empty.

Other people at his age of twenty-one would have spent the dwindling light doing childish things, like see who was first to get completely wasted on alcohol, or mature things like study for their college lectures.

Things like catch up with friends over a coffee at the local Starbuck’s, or go to the cinema with lovers.

He wasn’t interested in any of these things. He preferred to remain invisible, to keep people at arm’s length. It was easier for him, then.

Easier to deal with the pain in his heart without anyone to add _more._

The end of the cigarette glowed brightly as he took another pull on its toxic fumes, feeling the smoke burn its way into his lungs. It was a good pain, because it heralded the slight high as the nicotine shot straight to his brain. He would disappear for a smoke every time his memories brought him right back to the moment that killed him inside.

-

_“You looking forward to Christmas, Sophie?”_

_“Damn right, Mom! Can’t wait! The lights, the trees, the snow! It’s gonna be amazing!”_

_“Hey, watch your language. Your brother is a bad influence, I see.”_

The night he forgot how to dream.

 

_“Aw, no he isn’t Mom.”_

_“Heh, sure he isn’t.”_

_“Seriously, Jack is awesome. I love my big brother.”_

_“I know you do, honey. Hey, he’s just over the road. See him waving?”_

The night he lost his sense of wonder.

 

_“Can we show him that pendant? Pleeeeease?  I don’t wanna wait until Christmas morning to see his face when he sees it.”_

_“C’mon honey, it’s his present!”_

_“We can get him another present!”_

_“Alright…fine. But only because I want to see his face too. Come on, let’s cross over.”_

The night he forgot how to have fun.

 

_“Mr Overland? Your sister was holding this when she and your mother were hit. I think it was meant for you.”_

_“She always knew I loved snowflakes…”_

_“I’m deeply sorry for your loss, Mr Overland. Rest assured, we are doing everything we can to find and apprehend the driver.”_

The night he lost all hope.

 

_“Mr Overland? This is Officer Gerda. I regret to inform you I am the bearer of bad news._

_“They’re getting away with it, aren’t they?”_

_“I’m sorry sir, but we were unable to find evidence substantiating your claim.”_

_“Meaning their parents got the lawyers involved.”_

_“Sir, I don’t understand-”_

_*click*_

_“Sir? Hello? Hello?”_

The night that cost him everything but his memories.

Jack unconsciously fondled the snowflake pendant around his neck, and brought it to his lips as he kissed the diamond encrusted, geometrically perfect jewellery. A farewell kiss. The cigarette having lost its allure, he took one more pull and then flicked it unceremoniously into the snow-covered patio garden. He would probably catch hell from Nick tomorrow, but he didn’t really care. There wasn’t much to care about, or to live for.

And yet, something inside him stubbornly fought on, through the loss and ache, the rage and despair. The times where he wanted to end it all, there was a part of him that defiantly refused. He wiped a solitary tear using the sleeve of his navy blue hoodie, and checked himself once more.  

_Make sure your walls are up, you’ve got a big day tomorrow._

“Jack? C’mon kid, it’s dinnertime!” came a deep, booming voice from somewhere within the house. He tucked the pendant back under his hoodie, allowing no-one to see it, and only him to feel it.

Just like his pain.

“I’m coming, North.” he called back.

Gazing at the white powder sat happily on the huge back garden, illuminated by the pink hue of the sunset sky, he remarked to himself that he always preferred the cold. If he could, he would eat outside, but manners and house rules prevented such an indulgence. Meal times were family time.

If only he was part of the family.

-

“You ready for your new school tomorrow, Jack?” came the bass voice of the man known as Nicholas North, Jack’s godfather.

“College,” Jack corrected him, swallowing a mouthful of spaghetti, “and no.”

“Why not? New things are always exciting, no?”

“Nope. I know what Arendelle College is. It’s an educational establishment for the adolescents born into wealth and power.” he answered, as though reading from a promotional pamphlet.

“So?”

“It’s a school for bratty, spoilt rich kids. No-one I’d like to even think about making friends with.” Jack clarified tersely, an edge of bitterness in his voice.

_Not that I want to make friends._

“Come now, it might not be all bad.” A female voice now, belonging to Nick’s wife, Thiana.

“If you say so.” he replied evenly. Thiana frowned a little. They were trying to be patient with Jack, to wait for him to come out of his shell and be ready when he did, but it had been over two years now and, quite frankly, he seemed content to stay in his dark hole.

“Jack, I really think-” she opened her mouth, but Jack beat her to the punch.

“I need to get back. Early night.” he stated curtly, avoiding the gaze of his two godparents. Rising from the table, he walked to the hallway and recovered his black military jacket from the coat-hook fixed halfway up the wall, and fished a black scarf from its outer pocket. He wrapped the scarf around his neck and tucked it into the coat, and reached for the door.

Unlocking the front door, he was about to step through when he paused, remembering to say something. He turned to find North and Thiana had accompanied him, evidently they were accustomed to his abrupt departures.

“Thanks for dinner, it was nice.” he said with honesty, but his eyes showed no pleasure. North nodded his acknowledgement, and Jack disappeared into the night.

“I worry for him. It’s been nearly three years, and it’s like he hasn’t even started to grieve.” Thiana sighed, wringing her hands together. North noticed, and placed one of his huge hands over hers, completely covering them.

“I know, hummingbird. Soon, he will. When that day comes, we will see the true Jackson Overland, and it will be glorious. Besides, maybe this new college will help…” he soothed, before releasing her hands to clear the plates from the table.

“Maybe he will meet someone.” he mused, as the ignition of a car reached his ears, followed by guttural humming and loud metal music. He prayed Jack would make it home safe as the crunching of snow indicated his godson’s departure.

-

The drive back to his apartment was uneventful, yet bright. Jack had kept his attention solely focused on the road, desperate to avoid looking at the Christmas lights adorning the street lamps, shop windows, house windows…pretty much everywhere except the road itself. He kept trying to remind himself that it wasn’t Christmas’s fault over two years ago, but the season still held bitter memories for him.

_Which reminds me, I need to book next Saturday afternoon with Aster._

He pulled over close to his apartment block, cut the engine and sat in the silence while the shaky sensation in his back simmered down. His 1967 Chevrolet Impala was one of the few things he still cared about in his life, but it never failed to shake the hell out of him even after short journeys. Satisfied that he wasn’t going to literally vibrate out of the car like a pneumatic drill, he slid out making double sure to lock it before walking to the door of the apartment complex.

North had been concerned about Jack’s safety on his own. He didn’t like the young man living in an apartment block in the outskirts of town, until Jack pointed out that at his age he needed to be on his own, to find his own way. Seeing the logic, North agreed but on one condition: he chose the apartment complex and supplied the rent. Jack didn’t like being beholden to anyone, until North pointed out that as his legally adopted son, Jack was the heir to North Pole Toy Industries, and as such could enjoy a little bit of freedom – if he could swallow his pride.

Jack begrudgingly agreed, and after a year found that it was better for him this way. He didn’t like the idea of a job – not because he was lazy but because most of the jobs in the city of Arendelle were retail. The idea of having to deal with random members of the public created friction with his longing for isolation, and he was surprised to find he was grateful for North’s understanding.

He reached his apartment door and slipped inside. A fierce debate occurred inside him as to whether he should switch on the lights, but he knew the apartment like the back of his hand. Therefore, the lights stayed off. In his current mood, he preferred the dark anyway.

Numbly tossing his car and apartment keys on the coffee table, he wearily removed the scarf and coat from his body, tossing them lazily onto the sofa. Tiredness began to creep into his limbs, and he decided that he would need his strength for tomorrow.

Hopefully he would be invisible to his new college, but probably not. That would be where his strength came in, making sure everyone stayed at arm’s length.

Slipping out of his hoodie, he removed the rest of his clothes once he entered the bedroom. The half-empty bottle of DunBroch whisky sat on his bedside cabinet, an empty glass calling his name. He considered having some to help him sleep, but reckoned after one, he would have another, and before he knew it he would be exceptionally hungover and late for his first lecture.

The thought of everyone’s eyes locking onto him as he entered the lecture room shot a pang of fear through his chest.

_No. No ‘medication’ tonight._

Making sure his smartphone was set to seven in the morning, he slid under the covers and stared at the ceiling, waiting for the familiar descent of sleep to overcome him.

Familiar, yet dreaded.

Because with the sleep came the nightmares.


	2. Songs and Lectures

“Come on, Elsa! Brand new week! We don’t want to be late!”

Anna’s excited voice never failed to uplift the otherwise calm and collected Elsa, even when it was unwarranted. It was the reason they were practically inseparable, and why Elsa was so fiercely protective of her.

After all, Anna once saved her from herself.

“ ‘Sis, we have an _hour_ until our first lecture, and a fifteen minute drive. Get a grip.”

Elsa was still in her pyjamas, deciding on which of her clothes to wear for the first day. It came down to a heated battle between an aquamarine T-shirt with ‘Let It Go’ emblazoned in white upon the front with grey jeans, or….

_Or nothing. Let It Go wins._

Slipping out of her pyjamas, her skin tingled with appreciation when a gentle breeze of cold wind kissed the air around her, and it almost complained when she clothed herself with the soft, delicate cotton shirt and firm, yet supporting denim.

“Just…how is it you still look so stunning? You’re wearing a T-shirt and jeans for crying out loud. I hate you.” hissed her sister, mock jealousy in her voice as she poked her head around Elsa’s bedroom door. The elder sister laughed, the sound as sweet as morning birdsong.

“I know. It’s a curse I was born with!” she teased, relishing the scowl on Anna’s face.

“Hate you. See you at breakfast.”

“Be there as soon as I’m done.” Elsa called after her, sitting down in front of the dressing table mirror.

Application of make-up was a rapid affair for Elsa was adept at it. In truth, the application of light pink eye shadow, faint red lipstick, eyeliner and mascara took less than fifteen minutes. It would have been longer had she used foundation, but her alabaster skin was so perfect that it wasn’t needed.

The last item on the agenda was the platinum blonde hair currently dropping past her shoulders, slightly bedraggled from the night’s sleep.

_Hmm. Bun or French braid._

She scooped her hair into one hand and pulled it over her shoulder, and smiled as she made a decision.

_French braid it is._

-

The morning routine complete, Elsa joined her sister at the breakfast table, which sported two empty plates, two glasses of orange juice, two cups of steaming coffee and several slices of freshly toasted bread, with a small bowl of butter accompanying them.

“So, what’s the first lecture?” Elsa asked, buttering a slice of toast. Anna slid the sheet of paper over to her and wore an expression of deep scrutiny as she zeroed in on the relevant box.

“Mental Health.” her strawberry-blonde sister responded simply, biting off a chunk of toast in an utterly feral attack.

“That’s new. We didn’t choose that, did we?”

“Nope. Sheet says it’s mandatory for all students of Arendelle College.”

“Interesting. I wonder what it means…”

“It means you’ll fit right in!” teased Anna, prompting Elsa to fling an innocent slice of toast at her in revenge.

-

Breakfast having been either consumed or used as a projectile, and several clothing changes for Anna later – she had decided on an aqua green long-sleeved shirt with a dark denim skirt – they were finally on the road.

“I’m bored. We need music.” declared Anna, flicking over the radio stations until she found a song she liked. The elegant tones of Freddie Mercury danced through the cerulean Cadillac they drove, and Elsa felt her heart tinge with sadness at the lyrics.

_“Who wants to live forever,_  
Who dares to love forever,  
When love has died.”

“You know this song was-” Elsa began, but Anna interrupted.

“I know. Mom and Dad’s favourite. That’s why I chose it.”

Elsa opened her mouth to protest, but one glance at her sister’s closed eyes as she sang along shut her down. Choosing instead to divert her attention to the loud engine three cars ahead of her, she tried to block out the song.

To block out the painful memories that the lyrics brought to the surface.

Elsa and Anna were only sixteen and thirteen respectively when their parents met their tragic end, two beautiful souls claimed by the surprise storm that appeared on otherwise calm seas. Elsa had a bad feeling about that day and implored them to stay, to do something else other than take the sailboat, but their father would have none of it.

_“It is our anniversary, Elsa. I want to do something special for your mother. I promise that we’ll do whatever you and Anna want to do tomorrow. Deal?”_

Seeing no point in continuing the discussion, Elsa had reluctantly acquiesced. Her father’s broad smile and the feeling of his wool jumper under her fingertips as he hugged her tightly was the last memory she had of him, and one she swore she would never lose.

She was so lost in memory that before she knew it, they were pulling into the college car park.

_Thank God I know the way by heart._

Anna had hopped out of the car without opening the door, and was already on her way to the front entrance before Elsa had even slid out of the driving seat. Muttering curses to herself, she killed the engine and slid out of the driver’s seat. Looking up after locking the doors, she noticed something new, something that hadn’t been there in all the days she attended Arendelle College.

A black 1967 Chevrolet Impala sat in the space next to her Cadillac.

  _Hmm. Must be a new lecturer._

She checked her watch, and eyes widening with surprise she noticed that she only had a few minutes to get to her first lecture before it started. Revolving quickly on the balls of her feet she spirited herself off, stealing one more glance at the black car that seemed to dominate all of the other vehicles surrounding it.

-

Anna was already waiting impatiently outside of Hall 11 when Elsa hurriedly arrived, whispering irritably about nearly being late. Elsa simply rolled her eyes, and muttered that they still had time.

Clutching their notebooks tightly, Anna pushed open the door and both sisters’ eyes widened with anxiety at the sight.

The lecture hall was practically full, with the only seating at the front being swiftly appropriated by students seizing the opportunity presented by the sisters’ surprise. Before they knew it, the only two seats left were at the back.

_Please no. Not the back. Everyone knows if you sit at the back, you’re a target._

Elsa’s silent pleas went unnoticed, and with a heavy sigh Anna hooked one arm into the crook of her elder sister’s and led her up the middle stairs to take the remaining two seats. Anna slid in first, next to a man who kept the hood of his jumper over his head. Before Elsa took her seat, she stole a curious glance at the man’s work table, and the curiosity deepened when she made out the drawings on his open paper pad.

Six little snowflakes adorned the empty paper. Three of them in a zig-zag column were the same size as each other, and they were flanked by three smaller snowflakes on the right side. Each one was identical to the other, even with the size difference. Elsa remarked to herself that this person must have a steady hand and an eye for detail.

The man must have noticed, because he curtly closed the pad with a grunt and placed the pen on top, and finally slid his hands into the pocket of his hooded jumper.

There was something about this person she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but the banging arrival of Professor Graham alerted her to the fact that she was the only one still stood. Flushing slightly, hoping no-one had noticed, she took her place by her sister and pulled out her personal notepad and pen, ready for the first onslaught of higher education.

“Morning, ladies and gentlemen! Some of you may know me as Will, but in this lecture hall I go by Professor Graham or alternatively, Mr Graham. Your choice as to which.”

He placed his leather briefcase upon the desk, and sat on the edge of his table, regarding the young faces staring back at him.

“This particular lecture will be three hours long, and it will encompass the health of the mind, more importantly, the effects of outside events on the psyche. Today’s lecture will be about loss.”

Students began to glance at each other and Anna noticed the man next to her shift uncomfortably in his seat.

“Now, I know that many, if not all of you are heirs or outright CEOs. I’m here to tell you that within these walls, your status means nothing. If I call you out to answer a question or because I feel you are being out of line, I don’t care if your parents rule the world, within these walls you will respect me as you would your own flesh and blood. With that in mind-”

The professor’s stern gaze shifted over to Anna and Elsa’s direction, and they felt themselves involuntarily shrink in their seats.

“-would the gentleman in the blue hooded jumper please remove his hood?”

Anna breathed an audible sigh of relief, and all eyes seemed to turn toward her right. The man hesitated briefly, visibly uncomfortable with the level of attention directed at him. Elsa just about managed to see past her sister’s head when the young man reluctantly complied, fingers lacing the hood as he pulled it down.

_Huh. That’s new._

His hair was as white as the purest snow, and his skin was like alabaster powder, clean and smooth. His jaw was chiselled yet soft, but the thing that really took the sisters aback was his eyes.

Made of the purest cobalt blue, they seemed to possess the ability to entrap those that were unfortunate to meet their gaze, like a certain Greek monster of old, and around his being there was a decidedly cold air as though all the warmth within had been sucked out and discarded.

Those same eyes that currently gazed back at them with an expression that screamed – _“What the fuck are you looking at?”_


	3. Tenacity and Anxiety

It had been an hour and a half since the beginning of the lecture and Jack was still quietly seething from being called out by the professor, and it wasn’t helped by the task that they had been set.

_“Write five thousand words about a personal loss that you have experienced, and how it has affected you.”_

_Fuck off._

Jack was still fighting to finish the first paragraph when a voice from his left disturbed his erratic thought, and he turned to find a pair of light blue eyes belonging to the strawberry blonde girl next to him.

“Hi, I’m Anna! Pleased to meet you!” she said brightly, extending a hand. Jack hesitated for a moment, a flash of panic in his eyes at the sudden offer of contact.

_Come on. The quicker you get past the small-talk bullshit, the better. Shake her hand._

Sighing, he grudgingly accepted her hand, shaking it lightly and releasing it as soon as he possibly could, trying to bury himself in the huge case of writer’s block he was going through.

“…and you are?” she prompted, enunciating the words carefully. Jack gnashed his teeth a little.

_Who would’ve thought that trying to be invisible would be so hard on the first fucking day?_

Jack looked away, desperate to avoid answering the question. The less people knew about him, the better.

“Excuse me,” came a stern voice, silky and smooth yet steely, “I believe my sister asked you a question.”

Jack shot a withering glare at the owner of the voice, and was surprised to find that his glare was met with her own. The duel of the glowers. Who would win? Snow White or Platinum Blonde?

“I know.” he responded, curtly.

Jack’s taciturn demeanour was really starting to grate on Elsa, especially where her sister was involved. What did this man have to hide? Why was he being so terse with Anna, who just wanted to get to know him?

“Oooh, you have nice tattoos, Mr No Name. Think I could get some like that?” grinned Anna, staring at his neck. Jack frowned, wondering what she was referring to, and with a flash of horror that Elsa didn’t miss in his eyes he hastily adjusted the collar of his hooded jumper to cover them.

Elsa just about managed to catch four snowflakes tattooed on his neck, trailing down toward his chest, before they were unceremoniously covered up.

“No.” he responded, blunt like a hammer.

_What is the deal with this guy?_

Anna looked momentarily crestfallen, but quickly picked herself back up. She wasn’t going to let this slide.

“You still haven’t told me your name!” she teased.

“And I’m not going to.”

“Excuse me?” Elsa quietly exploded.

She was starting to get really pissed off now. Something about his evasiveness or outright refusal to answer her sister’s perfectly innocuous questions infuriated the hell out of her, and just when she was about to give the white-haired asshole a piece of her mind a loud voice from the front disturbed all three of them from the bubbling conflict.

“Pens down, people. I’m going to go round the room, and ask people to read an excerpt from their work. Rest assured, none of you will escape.” announced Mr Graham, a note of sadistic mirth in his voice. He scanned the terrified faces in the room, deciding which victim he would target first.

“Jackson Overland, you’ll be the first.” he announced, staring directly at the white-haired man in the back. Anna felt him shrink in his seat, and Elsa noted that his face blanched.

_How did he know my name?_

Feeling everyone’s eyes upon him, including those of the relentlessly prying women to his left, Jack reassumed the hard, emotionless exterior he had come to rely on in the near three years prior, shutting down all emotional response that would echo in his face. Gripping his paper tightly, he regarded the professor with an expression like unmoveable stone, and replied with one word:

“No.”

The hall fell silent apart from hushed whispers as Jack retrieved his bag and pad, and slid past a gobsmacked Elsa and Anna, taking surprising care to not brush past them – accidentally or otherwise. Descending the stairs, feeling the chilly sensation of twenty-four pairs of eyes all on the back of his head, he shot Mr Graham a look of contempt as he walked calmly toward the door, pulling his hood up as he did so.

And then he did something he never thought he would do, before disappearing into the corridor.

He turned, and looked straight into Elsa’s cerulean eyes, making her flinch slightly.

Hushed whispers turned into outright chatter as the hall’s topic of conversation turned to Jack’s brazen display of insubordination, and leaning close to Elsa’s ear to make herself heard, Anna whispered something.

“He’s definitely a strange one.”

“He’s an idiot.” Elsa scoffed.

And yet, his stubborn evasiveness, the undefinable look in his eyes, and the way that his walls suddenly came down at the mere mention of Jackson Overland, all added up to a notion that Elsa had long ignored when it came to men.

He intrigued her.

-

The lecture finished just before lunch, and the particular topic had made Elsa weary and standoffish. While she sympathised with the various excerpts that people had read, some of them were so flimsy that she found it very hard to not snort sarcastically.

_Do these people know anything about loss? I mean, if your prized possession is your smartphone and you were stupid enough to wave it around in public, of course it’s going to be stolen. Morons._

Anna had noticed her sister’s tired expression and insisted that they stop by the cafeteria for their lunch because – in her opinion, which Elsa did _not_ share – they had the finest coffee in town. Elsa thought the coffee tasted like liquidised soil sprinkled with dog turd, but even she had to admit it had a kick…which was what they needed.

“One thing I don’t get,” Anna mused aloud as they made their way to the cafeteria, the smell of fresh pastries and chocolate caressing their senses, “is that you’d think Graham would have gone ballistic. Someone walks out of his lecture like that, he’d go volcanic…but he didn’t.”

Elsa murmured her agreement. Mr Graham’s reaction wasn’t what she expected. Rather than launch into a tirade like he usually did about spoilt rich brats and their sense of entitlement, he actually looked sympathetic, almost understanding.

_Bah, I’m reading too much into it. He’s just another bad tempered rich kid._

“Anna, can we stop talking about it, please? Bad enough we had to bare our souls to twenty two complete strangers, but I’d rather forget about him.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, “but I should warn you-”

Anna opened the door to the cafeteria, and nodded to the far corner of the room.

“-he’s there.”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Elsa cursed, rolling her eyes. She indicated that she was going to queue for the coffee, and asked her sister to find a good place to sit while she waited, preferably far away from the white-haired idiot.

“Sure ‘sis” Anna had sweetly responded, but Elsa was all too familiar with the twinkle in her eyes. Turning on the balls of her feet, she marched straight over to the far corner. Elsa clasped a hand to her face, and quickly strode over in the same direction. If he was going to be an ass to Anna again, she had to be there.

Jack was busy drawing more snowflakes, earphones blasting rock music at near deafening level when he noticed a shape park itself directly opposite him, and couldn’t help but let out an exasperated sigh and rolling of the eyes in recognition. Politeness dictated the removal of his earphones, and reluctantly he complied with the infernal etiquette.

“So, let’s start this thing over. Hi, I’m Anna, and this,” she indicated to her left, where a withering glare attached to a rather stunning young lady appeared, “is my sister Elsa. What’s your name?”

Jack regarded them coolly, deciding whether it was worth indulging the relentlessly cheery woman again.

“You already know my name. Everyone does, thanks to him.” he answered scathingly.

“What brings you to Arendelle College?”

“If I tell you, will you leave me alone?”

“Maybe.” she replied, smirking. Getting through to him would be easier than she thought. Jack sighed, figuring that a maybe held a better chance than the alternative.

“Godfather wanted me here.”

“Who’s your godfather?”

“Nicholas St North.”

Anna gasped, and displayed an expression that made Jack wish he never said anything. The smirk became a gleeful beam, and she began to practically vibrate in the chair. Even Elsa edged away slightly.

“You mean North of North Pole Toy Industries?! Oh my God I love your toys!”

“ _His_ toys.” Jack corrected.

“Sorry, I meant that. Anyway, whatcha drinking?” she pointed to the still full cup in front of him.

“Coffee.” he replied, not once losing the taciturn demeanour.

“What do you think?”

“Tastes like shit. Nice kick though.” he responded, the bluntness of even that remark taking Anna aback. Elsa snorted into her hand, and tried to suppress a smile of agreement.

The period of silence that followed was welcomed by Jack, but to his dismay it didn’t last. Anna was merely preparing her next volley.

“Jackson Overland, huh? I think I’ve got a better name for you, with your white hair and all.”

“Oh please, do tell. I’m breathless with anticipation.” he snapped sarcastically, prompting a sharp glower from Elsa. He noticed, but it didn’t bother him. Likewise, the snap didn’t bother Anna in the slightest.

“Jack Frost.” she said proudly. Elsa expected another retort born of brevity and prepared accordingly, but what happened next shocked them both. His face went as white as his hair and his lips parted as though he was hit by a lightning strike of fear, but the real reaction was in his eyes.

 “How did you know…” he whispered, breathlessly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” Anna muttered, starkly aware that she had not just touched a nerve; she had obliterated it with a laser-guided bunker buster.

“Excuse me…” he murmured, completely avoiding the gaze of both girls as he hastily repacked his back and swiftly strode, almost ran out of the cafeteria.

The sisters stared incredulously after him, mouths open in bewilderment.

“Did I say something wrong?” whispered Anna, knowing very well that she did.

“I don’t know…” answered Elsa, wondering what the hell just happened. Anna quickly rose to her feet and shuffled behind her sister.

“Be right back.”

“Where are you going?”

“I need to make this right. What I said disturbed him, and I want to know why so I can make it right.” Anna answered, the rare tone of finality evident in each word. Elsa knew better than to argue when her sister had her mind made up.

Besides, her mind was swimming. The initially taciturn and outright grumpy man had suddenly become a terrified and vulnerable little boy right before their eyes, and all it took was a silly little nickname.

_What the hell is wrong with this guy?_

Her legs sprang into action, and once she elegantly slid from the chair she began to catch up on her sister’s head start.

At least, before a hand grasped her arm and a honeyed voice reached her ears.


	4. Oil and Whisky

“Where are you going, Queenie?”

_Oh God, not him again._

The hand belonged to Pritchard Black, one of the senior students at the College and self-proclaimed deity. He was the heir to Black Advertising Corporation, a nationwide company that specialised in advertisements ranging from television programmes and electrical goods, to male fashion and toys. Elsa detested the corporation and everything it stood for; how it manipulated the public into buying goods not because they were needed, but because they _had_ to. Being a national corporation, the vast majority of goods companies paid them obscene amounts for advertisements, which meant that BAC had its grubby fingers in every single pie.

Not to mention, it had a habit of not-so-secretly obtaining shares within each company, making it even more money and gaining influence in its running.

Elsa believed the very existence of Black Advertising Corporation was a stain on humanity. She looked down at the nearly grey hand on her wrist, and back up at the dark, malevolent eyes leering at her from a hawkish mask of pure sociopathic joy, an expression of seething fury brewing on her delicate features.

“Five seconds, Black. Either you remove your hand, or I break it so badly you’ll never jerk off again.”

“Come on, Ice Queen. We’re just saying hi.” another voice to her left. Elsa guessed as much.

Black’s best friend and willing minion, Hans Southernisle. He was thirteenth in line for the Southernisle & Weselton Partnership, a firm specialising in the facilitation of company takeovers. That meant _hostile_ takeovers were its forte, and they were excellent at it. If a company resisted a takeover, SWP would go behind the scenes, make veiled threats and seek out skeletons in a CEO’s closet to use as leverage. Sometimes, they would even manufacture those skeletons.

It was no wonder that SWP was Black Advertising Corporation’s best buddy, and part of the reason they were the premier advertising corporation.

“Four.”

“Hey, there’s no need to be so antagonistic,” came the English drawl, “we’re all friends, aren’t we Hans?”

“Three.”

“Come now, Elsa. Please?”

“Two, and you don’t get to use my name.”

“But it’s such a lovely name.”

“One.”

Pritchard decided to acquiesce, the fire in Elsa’s eyes and the cool, calm breathing indicating to him that she meant business. She would break his hand, with no fear of the consequences.

Of which there would be many.

For now, though, Pritchard thought it better to let the Ice Queen think she had won.

“As you wish.” he smirked, slowly removing his hand finger by finger. Elsa resumed her mission to catch up with her sister, striding off with the fury of a winter storm. She had just exited the cafeteria when the saccharine voice floated after her like oil on a puddle of water.

“We’ll be seeing more of each other soon, Elsa. You might want to get used to it!”

-

A cold blast of air shot through the corridor when Elsa burst through the double-door entrance, prompting those unfortunate enough to be nearby to descend into bitter shivers. She wasn’t bothered by the chilly wind; in fact it felt quite cleansing, and seemed to purify her ears and mind of the honeyed tones that followed her from the cafeteria.

Even though the city seemed to be in perpetual winter aside from the occasional sunny months of summer, which was the source of discomfort for the vast majority of its inhabitants, Elsa found herself at home in the wintry air.

The soft _crunch_  of snow under her feet met her ears as she stepped outside, eyes roving left and right for a sign of her little sister. Students here and there were getting into or out of their cars, but none of them had the characteristic strawberry-blonde hair she was looking for.

Well, some of them did, but none of them sported the thick braided pigtails framing either side of Anna’s pretty face.

_This is ridiculous._

Elsa fished out her smartphone from her leather jacket and quickly tapped in Anna’s number, noting with dismay as she pressed the ‘Call’ button that over the past week, Anna was the only person Elsa ever called, apart from the company.

_Oh come on, I have a better social life than that…don’t I?_

The sound of _brrm brrm_ reached her ears from the speakers, and Elsa tapped her foot impatiently. As much as she loved her sister, her propensity to disappear and reappear at will was a pain in the ass. She always liked to know where her younger sister was.

_*click*_

“Anna? Where the hell are you? I’m outside the front entrance and-”

“Right behind you, ‘sis.”

Elsa whirled around and jumped out of her skin, raising hand to her chest to calm the rapid beat of her heart, her face contorted into a mixture of shock and infuriation.

“Where the…hell did you go?” the platinum blonde gasped, trying to compose her breathing.

“Near where we parked, trying to find him. Turns out, he drives a-”

“I’m getting a little sick of hearing about him!” Elsa snapped, the infuriation only rising. “He’s brash, arrogant, he was a complete asshole to you and-”

“-and is just like you were, five years ago.” Anna finished calmly, her light blue eyes locked onto Elsa’s ice blue ones, which had widened in surprise.

“He’s nothing like I was…” she countered, weakly. So weak, in fact, that the always up-for-a-debate Anna didn’t even address it, but merely stated a fact.

“Elsa, I looked into his eyes and I saw yours. That’s part of why I went after him.”

“What? Why?”

“Because no-one should have to hold on to so much pain.”

Anna quietly turned and made her way back inside, leaving her elder sister stunned, her mouth opening and closing like an indecisive goldfish. Anna’s habit of dropping bombshells like that out of the blue were a source of great irritation, to the point that she even found a name for it on the Internet: The Wham Line.

And on the other hand, bombshells like that saved Elsa from her descent into the void of depression, following their orphaning.

A vibration in her hand brought her back down to earth with a bump, the rhythm of the alert telling her that a text message had arrived.

_“Hey! BF and I are flying down to Arendelle on Friday, staying for a week. Thought we could catch up! Sound good? R x_

Elsa felt a smile light up her face, and she quickly hit the reply button, mashing a text and sending it on its way.

_“Awesome! Can’t wait. Pick you up when?” E x_

_*bzzt bzzt*_

_“We land at 11am. See you then!”_

Elsa cheered inside, anticipating the moment when she would tell Anna the good news, then debating whether or not to clear whatever room she happened to be in so no-one was caught in the inevitable explosion of glee.

-

Jack cut the engine outside his apartment and tried desperately to calm his heavy breathing.

He didn’t mean for it to happen, but that nickname broke the dam that held back years of anguish and sorrow, and filled his vision with a single face. He didn’t mean for his icy exterior to come crashing down like that.

And yet, deep down…really deep down, he was grateful.

Tears filled his eyes and blurred his sight, and in a rage he punched the steering wheel five times, roaring as he did so. He weakly melted into his leather seat once the anger began to subside, running his hands through his hair as he tried to make sense of what happened.

_It’s fairly simple: a fluke. No way that she could have known who you were before today._

Ice once more began to settle upon his heart, and chased away the heat raging through his veins and his skin, alerting him to a stinging sensation on his knuckles. Drawing his right hand away from his hair, he groaned when he noticed that the innocent steering wheel had a bite of its own. Blood slightly seeped from several cuts on his fingers and the first two knuckles. It didn’t hurt too much, but it was a visual reminder of the past few hours, and one that he did not need.

He didn’t want to be reminded of how, in just over three hours, two relentlessly inquisitive women saw through the walls upon walls that he built to protect himself, and nearly found what he so desperately tried to hide.

How one of them had cerulean blue eyes that seemed to gaze into his very soul.

_Why here? Why now? Why, of all the god damn colleges in the country, I had to be enrolled in this one?_

He cursed to himself as he removed the keys and exited the car, rushing upstairs to the sanctity of his apartment. At least there, he was safe, hidden from prying eyes and inquisitive questions, of blue eyes and knowing expressions.

Opening the door with a resounding bang, he strode inside and kicked the door shut with an equally loud slam, and holding his hand ahead of him he went to the kitchen sink and ran it under a steady stream of cold water, enjoying the cooling, purifying sensation of the liquid as it washed away the red. There were practical reasons to using cold water, Jack had mused, but something about the cold felt nice. Soothing.

Satisfied that the bleeding had stopped, he gently dabbed at the cuts with a clean cloth and inspected his work.

_Good as new. Almost._

He glanced at the clock, and was surprised to find it was only one o'clock in the afternoon, that he was missing his afternoon lectures. Darting back to the living room, he picked up his keys from the coffee table where they always were and reached for the doorknob…and then he froze.

Going back to college would mean potentially running into them. He wasn’t sure he could deal with it a third time; it already felt like the Fates were playing a cruel joke on him.

No, he would stay home. Where the silence would comfort him and the darkness in which he existed would protect him.

He tossed his keys back onto the coffee table, and his eyes fell upon his open bedroom door, where the half-full bottle of whisky stood like a welcoming host.

Yes, he would remain in the darkness. Where it was soft, soothing, and comfortable.

And yet…empty.

-

Nine o’clock at night had swung around like an unstoppable force, beholden to no-one but time itself. Jack had been absent-mindedly scribbling in in his paper pad for hours, trying to make sense of anything and everything. Pictures of snowflakes, demons in the dark, cars, and song lyrics adorned the paper sheets.

Alter Bridge roared from his sound system in the living room, at a level that would have driven out most neighbours, had North not soundproofed the room in anticipation. Lyrics flowed in and out of Jack’s ears as he pulled out a fresh sheet, and began to draw.

_‘When all is lost to you inside/When all the darkness takes the light’_

The pencil traced the paper as though possessed, void of all will and existing only to immortalise the thoughts of its master, who was equally possessed by thought.

_‘The ritual warning has begun/And now you tear away from everyone’_

Two ovals took shape in the centre of the page, and the pencil was halfway through drawing concentric circles within the ovals themselves, before shading the inner circle black and the outer circle a light grey.

_‘Disconnected, so alone, yeah/Severed ties from all you know’_

Shading was now applied to above and below the ovals, along with a few flicks along the edges of the ovals themselves. The pencil was now sketching a curved line, thicker at one end and thinning at the other above both ovals, just above the higher shaded patch.

_‘Isolation/Brings you to the end/Until you love again’_

Jack put the pencil down, and inspected his art. A production of shutting his thoughts off and allowing his arms to work unhindered. He felt something he had not felt in a long time as he stared incredulously at the finished drawing.

The pair of impeccably drawn eyes gazed right back at him, and the familiarity of those eyes bored its way into his soul.

_‘Isolation/If you could only see/What will come to be, yeah’_

He rose suddenly to his feet, letting the sheet of paper fall to the floor and slide under the table. Shaking his head and wiping his face with his hands, he glanced at the now empty bottle of whisky on the coffee table, and the last dregs of the amber liquid in the glass. Quickly draining the liquid, he felt the ache of fatigue make itself known in his body and decided that maybe it was time to sleep.

Five minutes later he wrapped himself in his white blanket and rested his head on the slightly lumpy pillow, staring once more into the ceiling as his eyes began to drop, unwilling to keep them open any longer.

The soft embrace of sleep took him once more, but for the first time in three years, the nightmares did not come. He did not wake up in a cold sweat, struggling to breathe as the moon shone through the window and cast an ethereal light over his untidy room.

Those eyes chased the nightmares away.


	5. Accidents

The next three days passed without incident. Elsa and Anna attended all of their lectures and paid close attention to their studies, and Elsa was largely able to keep the lecherous advances of Pritchard Black at bay.

The problem was, however, that Black’s behaviour – and the remark that followed her out of the cafeteria on Monday – suggested that he was privy to something she was not. Knowledge is power, and the idea that Black had a certain power left a bad taste in her mouth.

The best part of the three days was toying with Anna, Elsa had noted in her own sadistic way. Anna knew she was hiding something, but no matter how often or hard she questioned her elder sister, nothing was given away.

In fact, the teasing smile Anna received in return frustrated her to the point that she threatened to never talk to her again.

“What is this, high school?” was Elsa’s taunt.

It had to be a surprise. She knew who was visiting on Friday but wanted to keep it secret from Anna, itching to see her face when the ‘mysterious’ R arrived at the airport. Anna’s explosions of glee were a fantastic source of pleasure for Elsa, and as she knew that one day they would eventually part and find their own paths, she wanted to get as much pleasure of teasing her little sister as she could.

College was relatively Jack-free too, she had noticed to her relief. The slightly increasing feeling of curiosity, combined with Anna’s intent to ‘make things right’ had grated on her, and a few times she had wished he had never enrolled at the college. She had too many things going on in her life without worrying about her sister and potential ramifications of cornering an ill-tempered young man.

Today was Friday morning, and Elsa had taken Anna to the local Starbuck’s for a morning coffee and Danish pastry, trying desperately to hide the rising urge to blurt out the surprise there and then. She was gazing out of the window, lost in pensive thought while her sister meticulously went through her lecture notes for Business Studies.

“…so when a company buys all shares of another company as soon as the stock exchange opens, it’s called a…dammit, I forgot…”

“ _Dawn Raid._ ” Elsa answered succinctly, without looking from the window. She knew most of them off by heart, as her parents and later her uncle Kai made sure she was aware of business terminology in preparation for college. As such, the lecturer taught her nothing she didn’t already know.

“That’s the one!” Anna clicked her fingers, the correct answer marked down in her notes. “And a person or company which is looked to by a company targeted for takeover, in the hope that they will outbid the _Black Knight_ is called…argh I forgot this one too…”

“ _White Knight._ ” Elsa clarified, making her sister click her fingers once more.

“I knew that one! I was just testing you, honest!”

Elsa’s eyes moved over to her sister, the twinkle of amusement in her eyes. She was proud that Anna had taken up Business in the college, but had no illusions that it wasn’t for her.

Anna wasn’t stupid or anything. If she wanted to, she could run a business like the back of her hand whilst simultaneously creating a brand new company, but Elsa – and indeed, her parents – knew that Anna’s heart lay on another path, one of her own making. Anna didn't know exactly  _what_ it was that she wanted to do, but she was content to simply float through life. She always maintained to Elsa that "if you always worry about the future, you'll miss the moment", and as true as it was - and as much as Elsa would have liked to agree - the elder sister unfortunately had no choice.

As the eldest, Elsa was heir to Fractal Fashion whether she wished it or not. Five years ago, she fought against the idea, taking a strong hate to the notion that her life was decided for her in advance. Elsa wanted to be the captain of her own destiny, to decide her fate. However, as the years passed by, she eventually made peace with the idea.

If she had to admit, eventually becoming the CEO of Fractal Fashion was seductive. A middle finger to the naysayers that believed a woman had no idea how to run a company.

“….and when the acquisition of another company is contested or unwanted, and the target company is compelled to resist, it’s called a…” Anna trailed off, prompting her sister, who did not respond. Anna looked up, curious as to the reason for her sister’s sudden silence.

Elsa’s eyes were firmly glaring past her shoulder, and Anna was secretly relieved that looks could not kill, as she would have massacred the entire coffee shop. Turning around to follow her sister’s glower, she wished that they could.

Pritchard and Hans had just entered the coffee shop, their eyes firmly fixed with a predatory twinkle on the two women.

“ _Hostile Takeover.”_ Elsa answered the prior question, having difficulty keeping her anger from boiling over.

Anna could almost hear the veins popping in Elsa’s temples, and definitely heard the gnashing of teeth.

“Ladies!” came Pritchard’s sickly sweet voice, instantly making Elsa nauseous.

“Black. Southernisle.” Elsa responded curtly.

“My, Anna…you’re looking lovely today.” Pritchard turned toward her sister, knowing that it would infuriate Elsa.

“Thanks. You still look like a trashy B-movie bad guy. What’s the matter, did mommy accidentally put your Dracula costume in the wash?”

Elsa nearly spat out the sip of coffee she took in an attempt to prevent her from saying something, and even Hans had to suppress a snort. There was even a muffled “Oh, snap!” from somewhere behind near the coffee dispensers.

Pritchard however, scowled and ill-concealed rage contorted his already hawkish features, resembling something akin to a shark.

“Don’t talk about my mother like that.” he snarled.

“Don’t come in here with your smarmy, vomit-inducing presence, then.” retorted Anna, unmoved by the threatening tone.

Silence fell around the room, and Elsa tried desperately to stop herself from bursting out in laughter. One of the baristas walked over to the four of them, his sheer size dwarfing everyone.

“Is there a problem here?” was his sweet, gravelly voice. Anna glared a few more seconds at Pritchard before replying.

“Nah, Kristoff. No problem at all. Elsa and I were just leaving.”

The two sisters collected their lecture notes, and Anna drained her latte while Elsa picked up her half-full cup of mocha, and suppressing the urge to giggle they elegantly filed out of the door. The barista known as Kristoff returned to his work, shooting Pritchard a glare as he did so, and after a minute or two the conversation and ambient noise returned to the coffee shop.

The Black heir didn’t notice, he was too busy glowering at the door the sisters had left through.

“She’ll pay for that remark.” he vowed.

“What do you want to do, boss?” piped Hans. Pritchard smiled, the cogs turning under his slicked back, greasy black hair. Boss, he liked that word.

“Watch and wait.”

-

“I can’t believe you said that!” gushed Elsa as they walked quickly back to the car. Anna merely shrugged like it was nothing special.

“What? Greasy McAsshole back there deserves to be taken down a peg.”  Elsa snorted again whist she was taking another swig of her mocha.

“Aaaargh, lukewarm coffee up my nose! Thanks!” she laughed, making the appropriate motion.

“Haha! That’s for keeping secrets!” taunted Anna, pointing gleefully at the quite evidently struggling Elsa.

“Anna?” Elsa looked up, a glint in her eye.

“Yeah?” her little sister replied innocently, her tongue slightly sticking out.

“Run.” Elsa grinned impishly, and began tearing after a cackling Anna, intent on apprehending and tickling the hell out of the offending sibling.

Her sister’s voice carried over to her in a challenging vein as she rounded the corner to the car. “C’mon, Elsa! I’m faster than you _and_ I’ve got heels!”

“Just you wait!” Elsa called back, and whirled round the corner straight into a surprised Jack.

“Ooff!”

They bounced off each other, and Elsa fell backwards with the sudden change in momentum. Her centre of gravity changing, she began her inevitable, shameful descent to the snow covered pavement. She closed her eyes and prayed it wouldn’t hurt too much.

It didn’t.

Before she was even halfway down, a hand shot out and firmly grasped her forearm, and instinctively her hand gripped the arm, instantly stopping her fall. Breathlessly, she opened her eyes and looked into those cobalt-blue orbs staring right back at her, a twinkle of something in his eyes.

“You alright?” came the deep rumble, this time without a trace of sarcasm, terseness or bad attitude, only sincerity.

“Yes…thank you.” Elsa muttered, still recovering her breath. Jack pulled her up quickly and pulled his hand away, and as Elsa would admit to herself later, quicker than she would have liked.

“Elsa! Are you okay!” came Anna’s worried squeak from somewhere behind Jack. Evidently she had been hiding behind a car or something, hoping to jump out and scare her elder sister. For some reason, Elsa was unable to look away from Jack’s frowning gaze, so she didn’t see Anna spontaneously appear by her side.

“Fine, Anna. I’m fine. Jack stopped me from-” she began, but cut herself off when she managed to tear her eyes away from his and they fell upon his hoodie, a look of horror upon her delicate features.

“-oh my, I am so sorry!”

Jack narrowed his eyes in confusion, and followed her sight. A dark patch of coffee covered the chest of his hooded jumper, and it was spreading fast, turning the soft navy into an ugly shade of brown.

“Here, let me-” she began, taking a handkerchief out from her jacket pocket, but Jack waved dismissively.

“Don’t worry about it.” he said.

“No, really, I need to-” she persisted, reaching toward the stain with her handkerchief.

“I said..!” he nearly shouted, recoiling from Elsa’s outstretched arm like it was dangerous.

Elsa jerked her arm back, and both sisters stared at him in surprise. His breathing was rapid and deep, and his face looked panicked. Finally able to tear his eyes from the dangerous handkerchief, he discovered the silence between them had passed the level of _awkward_ and was now firmly on _tense_.

Down came the gruff, taciturn exterior, but with a small difference.

“Don’t worry about it. Accidents happen.” He repeated, in a much softer voice.

Elsa relented. His cobalt eyes shone with a look that told Elsa he wanted the topic dropped. She traced her eyes along his nose, down to his lips which were pursed with mild irritation, down the chiselled jawline and finally coming to rest on the four snowflakes adorning his neck. This time, she was finally able to get a good look.

In fact, even though he noticed her less-than-subtle gaze at his tattoo, he didn’t bother attempting to cover them up.

“At least let me repay you.” She began, tearing her eyes from his tattoo and assuming her regal expression, the one she reserved for business-related conversations.

“If I do, will you let it go?” he said, raising an eyebrow and folding his arms. Elsa nodded affirmatively.

“Yes. Let me take you for a coffee sometime. Tomorrow, perhaps?”  The air of closing an agreement between two parties.

“Can’t. Prior engagement.” he responded, continuing the brevity for which he was fast becoming associated. In fact, Elsa didn’t doubt that the _Brevity_ entry in the Oxford English Dictionary came with a picture of Jackson Overland. She narrowed her eyes.

“Well, when would you prefer?”

“Tell you what. I’ll let you know.” Jack answered, both of them suspecting he had no intention of doing so which left Elsa feeling a little disappointed. She didn't know why.

“Okay. See you…whenever.” Elsa smiled a little. Jack did not return the smile; he stepped to the side and wordlessly resumed his original journey, leaving the sisters alone to their daily business.

Once he rounded the corner and was safely out of earshot, Anna gaped with wide eyes at her elder sister, who returned it with bewilderment.

“Did you just ask Captain Runaway on a date?” she whispered incredulously.

“Pfft. Nothing like a date. I spilled coffee on his clothes, I’m making amends. Simple.” she scoffed.

“If you say so, Lady Denial.” Anna muttered sarcastically, wincing as her offhand remark garnered an elbow jab in her arm.

“Come on, let’s get back to the car. Your surprise is waiting for us.”

Anna’s expression changed from sardonic to gleeful at the mere mention of ‘surprise’, and she practically bounced in the snow on the way to the car. Elsa’s eyes followed her briefly as she pranced off.

“A date. Yes, I suppose it is.” she whispered to herself, surprised to find that a small part of her was looking forward to it. Disturbed by a rather loud clearing of the throat ahead, Elsa noticed with embarrassment that Anna was now waiting impatiently by the car having covered the distance with her childlike bouncing, and she was still stood in the street lost in thought. Fishing the keys from her pocket, she quickly rejoined her sister.

If she had looked behind her, she would have seen Jack’s arm protrude slightly from the corner, having not walked away entirely. He was leaning against the wall, trying to calm himself down from the rush of anxiety and fear coursing through his chest.

He had heard every word, everything but the whisper.


	6. Reunion

“So why are we here?” Anna asked inquisitively, regarding the myriad of arriving travellers with scrutiny reserved only for readers of ‘ _Where’s Waldo?_ ’.

The sisters were both sat in Elsa’s Cadillac, listening to The Beatles as they waited for two specific arrivals to pop out of the main entrance. Elsa had to lightly slap her sister’s legs four times for committing the heinous offense of _putting her feet up on the dashboard._

“I told you, it’s a surprise.” she evenly replied, without so much as opening her eyes as she let _Blackbird_ ’s serene notes wash over her, smiling as she heard her younger sister audibly sigh and could almost hear the cogs turn in her head.

“Is it…Merida?”

“Nope. Strike one.” Elsa half-smiled.

“Is it...Hiccup? Ow!”

“Nope. Strike two.” Elsa smiled fully, slapping her sister’s legs for the fifth time. Still not opening her eyes.

“Is it…”

This time Elsa did open her eyes and instinctively grasp the convertible door as the car rocked from side to side, Anna having scrambled over her door to tackle a brown-haired twenty year old in a tight hug.

“Rapunzel!” Anna squealed, bouncing up and down like a caffeinated toddler.

“Anna!” was the returning squeal, Rapunzel also channelling the power of a pogo stick.

“Elsa! It’s Rapunzel!” squealed Anna at her sister, at an even higher pitch.

“Oh gee, ya think?” Elsa grinned, unable to resist the sarcasm as she climbed out of the Cadillac with none of the haphazard scrambling of her little sister. Rapunzel beamed widely, breaking from Anna’s hug long enough to embrace Elsa.

“Great to see you, Els. Love what you’ve done with your hair.” Rapunzel gushed, fondling the French braid sat on her left shoulder.

“Right back at you! I remember you had hair down to your feet!” Elsa responded, teasing Rapunzel’s short brown locks with her fingers. She waved dismissively.

“Eh, I wanted a change. Plus, having to wear one hell of a plait gets heavy on the ol’ noggin, you know?”

“Definitely. By the way…where’s Eugene?”

“Right here.” A man’s voice appeared behind Rapunzel, sounding exceptionally exhausted. Eugene Fitzherbert shuffled into view, carrying two holdalls under his arms and two suitcases in each hand, desperately trying not to fall over as the weight took its toll. Elsa dove to help him out, appropriating a holdall and suitcase from the tired man’s arms.

“Thanks Els. You’re a back-saver.” he said gratefully. Elsa hugged him with her free arm.

“No problem,” she replied, then turning to tease the new arrival, “after all, we ladies can carry our own luggage!”

Rapunzel made a face and stuck her tongue out as the group burst into gleeful laughter.

-

Fifteen minutes and several luggage reshuffles later, the boot was finally closed and the group were on their way back to Arendelle City.

Diana Ross and the Supremes played from the car radio as everyone was occupied in conversation, occasionally giggling and gasping as gossip and news bounced between mouths and ears. Elsa chuckled to herself as she listened to Rapunzel’s manic descriptions of everything that had happened since the group were last together.

“…and Gothel Haircare was so intent on trying to out-advertise, out-sell and pretty much beat us, they spent more than they sold, so they went under! Not to mention their haircare goods are way, way inferior to ours. Seriously, one of their hairdryers blew up in a customer’s hand!”

“Hah! So you’re pretty much _the_ haircare company in Corona now?” beamed Anna.

“Yep. There are a few others, but everyone prefers our stuff. It’s why we’re still able to advertise without turning to BAC…” Rapunzel answered, bitterness creeping into the last few words.

“Pretentious asshats.” Eugene growled, prompting sniggers from around him.

“I know, right?” Anna agreed, before her attention was brought to a vibration in her hand. “Ooh, a text!”

“Who’s it from?” Elsa enquired, curious.

“Kristoff. He said: _Say the word, and Pritchard Black will be forever known as Pritchard Black and Blue._ ”

“I like him. He can hold while I punch.” Eugene remarked, dryly.

“That’s probably the best way,” agreed Anna, a wry tone in her voice as well, “Kristoff is twice your size, so one punch from him would knock you _both_ out.”

Giggles erupted from the girls, and Eugene turned a shade of red.

“So, how’s college? Still full of rich brats like yourselves?” Rapunzel teased.

“Pot, kettle!” retorted Anna, to Elsa’s amusement, “It’s good. We had a new lecture on Monday, Mental Health. Elsa hated it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, and to be honest, I did too. Apparently, the harshest loss most of the students have had was something to do with either jewellery or technology.”

“Oyyy…” Eugene groaned, covering his face with his hand in exasperation.

“I know, right? Which reminds me-”

“Don’t do it…” hissed Elsa, lightly back-handing her sister’s leg with her free hand.

“-There’s this new guy-” continued Anna, unfazed by the threat of violence.

“I’m warning you…”

“-and she’s going on a date with him!” Anna finished, grinning wickedly.

“You had to go there, didn’t you.” Elsa groaned, rolling her eyes. Looks of incredulous surprise were exchanged between the two rear passengers, with Rapunzel looking the most surprised.

“Wait. Back up. Ice Queen has a date?” Eugene gaped.

“Fuck off, I’m not an ice queen! And it’s not a date!” retorted Elsa, backhanding her cackling sister with each contact punctuating the last four words. Rapunzel leaned forward, her attention solely focused on the new development.

“Spill. What’s he like, and do I need to beat him?”

Elsa sighed, the hope of avoiding the question dwindling bit by bit until it vanished forever.

“He’s weird. Won’t let anyone get close, figuratively and literally. Every time Anna and I asked him a question, he’d dodge or refuse to answer it. Anna actually gave him a nickname, and he freaked out. Apparently, Jack Frost is something he _really_ doesn’t like.

Rapunzel and Eugene simultaneously frowned, the itch of growing recognition appearing in their minds.

“Does he have white hair, ridiculously blue eyes and two snowflake tattoos on his neck?” asked Eugene, awaiting the answer like a quiz host.

Elsa frowned deeply, meeting Eugene’s curious gaze in the rear-view mirror.

“Four snowflakes, but yeah. How did you know?”

“I know him, or rather know _of_ him.” Eugene stated, the pieces falling into place. Anna turned in her seat and took over the role of gazing from Elsa, who now had to concentrate on the road as they entered the city limits and the traffic therein.

“Details. Now.”

“I can’t really tell you much, because Elsa was right on the money when she said he won’t let anyone get close. He transferred from Burgess University to Corona College a year ago, just seemed to appear out of thin air. Kept himself to himself, refused to associate everyone, despite offers from Yours Awesomely to take him out for a drink. When people would try to talk to him, he’d ignore them, or sometimes just glare. Something in his eyes scared them off.”

Elsa made a right turn toward the southern edge of the city, putting them five minutes away from their house, her ears listening intently to Eugene’s explanation.

“Then one day, he just disappeared completely. I did some digging, talked to my friend Vladimir at Burgess University. Turns out he was expelled from there for nearly breaking a student’s face.”

“Jeez, why’d he do that?”

“Apparently, the student called him Jack Frost, and he didn’t take kindly to that. Roared that no-one gets to call him that name. Funnily enough, he did the same thing in Corona, and got kicked out from there too. “

“Yeesh, he sounds scarier than I thought. What made him go off the reservation like that?” Elsa whispered, the idea that she was going on a date with someone who nearly hospitalised two students in two years leaving a twinge of worry in her chest. Rapunzel piped up this time, taking over from Eugene who had exhausted his knowledge.

“I was outside the Dean’s office, and because his door was slightly open, I managed to catch a few words in between the Dean tearing him apart. Jack Frost is what his sister called him.”

The Cadillac pulled up outside Elsa’s house, and she killed the engine. Wringing her fingers together, she twisted in her seat and regarded Rapunzel with a curious, yet concerned expression.

“He didn’t do that to me or Anna, not that I would have let him.”

“I guess it’s something about you two that’s different. Something that didn’t make him freak out and go all rage-monster on you.”

Elsa glanced at her sister, who returned it with a worried expression. Eugene caught the glances, and spoke once more, anxious to soothe the tension.

“Look, I don’t think you need to be scared. Impression I got from him was that he’s a very honourable guy, but he’s just really damaged. Probably likes you two.”

“What makes you think that? How can you get that idea when his default expression is leave-me-alone?”

“My experience is that no-one closes off like he did without having something really, _really_ bad happen to them in their life. I mean, you weren’t exactly easy on Anna.”

Elsa felt a pang of guilt shoot through her stomach at those words and looked down at her hands, trying to avoid the ‘told you so’ expression on her sister’s face.

“Els, don’t stress. It’s kinda obvious he likes you, even though he’s crap at showing it.” Rapunzel soothed, placing a hand on Elsa’s shoulder.

“Huh? How?” she mumbled, the guilt in her chest proving resistant to assuage.

“He said yes to the date. That’s pretty much miles ahead of anyone else who tried, including me.” she finished. Eugene shot her a jealous look.

“What?” she shrugged. “I had a moment of weakness. Anyway, we’ll get our stuff in the house and have a coffee, and then go shopping. Sound good?”

“Sounds fantastic. C’mon, let’s go inside.” Anna enthused, beaming at her sister. Elsa didn’t respond much more than wear an expression of self-reproach. Her younger sister squeezed her slightly shaking hand comfortingly, and whispered to her as Rapunzel and Eugene began the task of bringing the luggage to the front door.

“It’s gonna be fine, ‘sis. And don’t worry about what Eugene said, I forgave you long ago.”

Elsa felt herself smile warmly, and pulled Anna into a tight embrace.

“I love you, Anna.”

“Love you too, ‘sis. Always have, always will.”


	7. Fated

Four cups arranged in a perfectly neat row stood in front of the rather swanky coffee machine, each waiting for the brown liquid to bring purpose to their existence. Elsa’s cup was tall and slender, light blue with a white icicle motif adorning the rim. Anna’s mug was huge and lilac, with crocuses dotted in diagonal patterns around the side.

Rapunzel chose a mug that was tall, but widened at the base with a single sun emblazoned on the side, and Eugene’s chosen mug was a simple, medium sized selection, but on the side there was writing that indicated level of conversational response relative to amount of coffee consumed.

It was Elsa’s favourite mug for when she was in a snarky mood.

She flicked upon her laptop that was placed on the breakfast bar opposite the coffee machine, and busied herself with preparing the drinks while the operating system booted up.

_Instant or pod…instant or pod…_

“Go with pod. It’s a special occasion.” Elsa murmured to herself, opening the cupboard above the coffee machine and fishing out four different pods from the six boxes that dominated the lower shelf.

“Caramel Latte Macchiato for Anna, cappuccino for Rapunzel, Americano for Eugene, and mocha for me.” she recited aloud, remembering the requests that spontaneously appeared almost as soon as they walked through the door. Sliding Anna’s pod into the machine and placing her cup in the specific location, she pressed the button at the top.

Returning to the laptop as the sound of whirring, boiling and humming filled the open-plan kitchen, she clicked the icon that said _Email_ and waited patiently as the program began to load up the week’s correspondence.

A loud gurgling greeted her ears and she rotated on the spot, sliding out Anna’s cup and empty pod, and replacing it with Eugene’s, as he would probably be out of the shower before Rapunzel. Pressing the button once more, the machine whirred and rumbled back into action.

Returning to the emails, she perused the five unread emails, clicking the oldest one first.

_To all employees (and you bigwigs on the top floor),_

_For the love of all things holy and covered in chocolate, can people PLEASE delete emails that are no longer needed? There’s only so much hard drive and bandwidth space, and I’m pretty close to setting a limit on the number of emails within accounts._

_Yours,_

_Williams, IT (Irate Techie)_

Elsa burst into giggles, which continued even as she swapped Eugene’s mug and pod with hers. She could picture Williams, who was a small, balding and rotund man becoming incredibly irritated with the speed of the company servers, and yelling profanities at the screen.

The next three emails were run-of-the-mill fashion updates, suggestions for the Paris catwalk and predictions of ‘the next best thing’ so Elsa skipped those and went straight to the newest email. It was from her uncle Kai, who had taken over Fractal Fashion when her parents died and had been its steward ever since…until Elsa was ready to take over.

_Elsa,_

_Company meeting at 5pm tonight. Can’t tell you much via email, as we both know Williams is a nosy bastard. I’m sorry._

Elsa frowned, and the churn of uncertainty and worry in her stomach made her re-read the email twice. The letters themselves were innocuous enough, but something in the tone along with the apology in the end had Elsa’s mind racing and her heart beating with disquiet thumps.

_What's happened? Why is Kai saying sorry?_

She retrieved her mocha from the dispenser and began to sip in thought, the delicious liquid having cooled down enough to drink in the time it took her to re-read the email and attempt to discern its meaning.

_It could be anything. Imperfection in the cotton of the newest t-shirts, Olaf the Snowman merchandise isn’t selling…argh! Why did he have to be so cryptic?!_

“Penny for your thoughts, ‘sis?”

Elsa looked up at Anna, who was sat on a stool on the other side of the breakfast bar, her hair in a braided bun and was now wearing a pink off-the-shoulder long sleeved shirt. She had her chin in both hands and was currently gazing at the pensive Elsa with an expectant expression.

Elsa chose not to answer, and simply rotated the laptop one hundred and eighty degrees. Anna frowned, and leaned forward to read the email that had Elsa in such a thoughtful state.

“What could he mean by that?”

“That’s just it, Anna, I don’t know. Kai has never been so…”

“Enigmatic.” finished her little sister. Elsa nodded, gratified that her sister was, as always, on the same wavelength. Quickly placing her mocha on the breakfast bar, she pulled her smartphone out of her jacket’s inner pocket and selected Kai’s office number, pressing the Call button with one hand as she passed the macchiato over. Accepting the drink, Anna sipped from the sweet froth while watching her elder sister’s reactions intently.

*click*

“Hello? It’s Elsa, is Kai…he’s busy? Do you know when he’ll be free? What do you mean, you have no idea?”

Anna bit her lip as Elsa’s tone became stern and a little petulant, and her frown became decidedly irritated. This didn’t sound good.

“You’re his secretary, aren’t you supposed to know? Isn’t it your job description? Right, well as soon as he is free you call me; I want to see him as soon as possible. No, I don’t care what his itinerary is like, you lock him in the office if you have to!”

Elsa practically stabbed her finger through the End Call button, making a sound of intense frustration. She stared at her little sister, wearing the same expression as the sound.

“Remind me to fire her ass when I take over.” she hissed.

“Easy there, tiger. Kai could be dodging her, too. Try his cell.” Anna countered reproachfully. Elsa sighed, attempting to calm the rising infuriation in her voice. Flicking through the phonebook menu, she pressed Call once more and raised it to her ear.

*click*

_You have reached Kai’s voicemail. I’m either busy or not at the office. Please leave your name, number and-”_

Elsa didn’t even wait for the _beep_ before ending the call, practically throwing the phone across the room. Anna raised her eyebrows, already aware of the answer before Elsa even spoke.

“Voicemail. He turned his phone off. He _never_ turns his phone off.”

The elder sister ran her slender hand through her platinum blonde locks, signs of stress and worry creasing her forehead. Anna rose from her seat and embraced her sister, manoeuvring the frowning head onto her shoulder.

“What’s wrong?” appeared a light, breezy voice from the corridor to the bedrooms, to the right of the kitchen. Elsa and Anna parted, startled by Rapunzel’s sudden appearance, her head cocked to the side. She wore a light purple, low cut silk blouse with a thin plain tee underneath, and a sunny yellow skirt that reached her ankles. Anna was always jealous of how she could carry off light colours so easily.

“Jeez, you scared me,” Anna hissed, “I forgot you don’t have long hair anymore!”

“Yeah I know; short hair is so much quicker to wash. My original question still stands, though.” Rapunzel responded tenaciously. Anna glanced at her sister, who imperceptibly shook her head.

“Nothing that can’t wait until five o’clock. Pointless worrying about it until then.” Anna stated decisively, placing Rapunzel’s cup under the dispenser, swapping the pod and pressing the button.

“Eugene ready yet? Our shopping time is running away from us!” she asked, diverting attention away from the problem. Rapunzel shook her head, rolling her eyes.

“Nah. I swear, he spends more time on his goatee than I do with my makeup.” she answered wryly.

“I do not!” An indignant voice appeared behind Rapunzel, and Eugene rounded the corner, a ridiculously well-tended goatee under his bottom lip, wearing a white tee with _I See The Light_ emblazoned on the front and dark green corduroys. Eugene’s colour co-ordination was clever, she admitted to herself, but her tastes were different.

Icy and contrasting colours.

Like white, black, light and breezy blue, tasteful grey and recently, navy.

_Just like his hoodie…wait, what?_

Elsa shook herself from that thought, and slid Rapunzel and Eugene’s coffee over. Rapunzel nearly fainted with bliss at the taste, while Eugene simply drained it in four gulps. The three girls stared incredulously at him as he put down the cup on the kitchen side with a satisfied _clink_ and an even more satisfied _aaah._

“What?” he asked in bemusement. Anna rolled her eyes exasperatedly.

“Men. Come on, the shops await! To the Cadillac! For love, honour, and retail therapy!” she declared with the air of a general leading troops to battle, and revolving on her feet she marched to the front door. Elsa, Rapunzel and Eugene exchanged slightly bewildered glances, and quickly followed suit.

The big four, off to war and material victory.

-

It took Jack nearly two hours to calm down.

Nearly three years of successfully keeping people away, except for two unfortunate (but in his mind, justified) cases of having to physically prove a point had honed his walls to an impenetrable barrier.

Impenetrable to all, it seemed, except two tenacious, relentless women.

Sat in the outside area of a small, independent café not far from his apartment, he stared at the table in almost nostalgic thought.

It began as a conscious desire to keep people out. Having his family ripped from his life like unwanted paper had left a deep fear within him of getting too close to someone, a fear of losing them as well. He couldn’t bear the pain of loss again, so he cultivated a defensive mechanism. Aloofness, taciturnity and standoffishness became his friends to hide the crippling fear, and over three long years that fear grew into deep-seated anxiety. Therefore, his cold personality had to grow with it.

In short, he froze his own heart.

Reaching for his black coffee, he noticed too late that his hands were still shaking and lost his grip on the ceramic cup, spilling the hot black liquid all over the table. Jerking up like he had been the recipient of an electric shock, he narrowly avoided a second instance of coffee staining his clothes.

Several pairs of eyes looked up at the sudden movement, and he felt his skin begin to crawl as he fought the urge to bolt from the café.

_Get it together, Overland. You’re better than this._

Wiping his hand down his face to galvanise his emotions and clear the cold sweat, he took several deep breaths through his nose as he tried to calm the rapid _thump-thump_ in his ears and decided that the quicker he got out of there, the better. Fishing out a ten dollar note and haphazardly placing it on the table, he hastily put his coat on and strode out of the café in no particular direction.

_All this because she wants to buy you a coffee. Get a fucking grip, you idiot. Just because she wants to repay you for spilling a drink over your favourite hoodie doesn’t mean she’s going to get close._

As though willed, the icy demeanour began to trickle down once more and Jack’s mind began to focus, chasing away the palpitations and the shaking hands. Exhaling deeply, he felt the last of the panic attack dwindle and once more became as cold as the very snow he walked in.

He did notice that he was walking with no destination in mind, and decided to find a shop to take his mind off things. Glancing from shop front to shop front, his eyes came to rest upon Arendelle Music and DVDs that was situated on the opposite side of the busy crossroads.

_Perfect._

Glancing left and right to make sure it was safe, he brushed past an empty cerulean Cadillac as he crossed the road to the music store and the staggering choice within.

-

Four-thirty swung by with impressive speed, and Elsa, Anna, Rapunzel and Eugene were trudging back to the Cadillac, proudly sporting several bags with different brand names, ranging from clothing and accessories to electronics and delivery receipts for home decoration. Elsa’s proudest purchase was a long, off-the-shoulders ice blue dress that had a shimmering bodice and was split at the right knee. It was one that she would save for special occasions. Anna, however, had to be talked down from buying six pairs of identical boots – much to Eugene’s relief as he was the poor sap carrying most of the goods.

“But what if I lose one?” she had whined.

“You won’t, because if you lose a three-hundred dollar pair of boots I’ll strangle you myself.” Elsa had warned in a mock-threat.

They were only fifty yards from the Cadillac when Anna stopped in her tracks, her attention firmly fixed on a store across the road.

“Hey, Elsa? Should we get some music?” Elsa considered the idea for a moment.

“Yeah, I could use something new. Broaden my horizon a little.”

With that, the four marched over the road, Eugene lagging behind as he struggled with the overwhelming weight, and into the bright music store.

Eugene wisely chose to remain near the checkout at the front, anxious to take a well-deserved break from being the packhorse of the gang while the three women split up around the aisles, perusing the wares to see if there was anything interesting. Elsa was at first unsure of where to go as her musical tastes were not confined to a specific genre, yet when her eyes came to rest on a familiar sight, she knew exactly where to go.

-

Jack was aware of Elsa standing beside him without even needing to look, the perfume she wore was so characteristic. It was a light, airy scent that cooled the nose as he breathed it in, and he remembered it from their collision in the morning. He tried to suppress the rising anxiety, but found it a little easier with the added sensation of a few butterflies in his stomach.

At least, that’s what he thought it was.

“We keep running into each other.” he noted dryly, as he perused the song list of Alter Bridge’s latest album.

“It seems we do. Almost like we’re fated.” Elsa replied in wry agreement. Jack made a grunt of disdain at the word ‘fated’, prompting her to glance at him.

“So what brings you to the metal section?” he asked, unable to resist the curiosity.

“I’m exploring new things. I honestly don’t know where to start though, these bands all look the same to me. Maybe you could help?” She was trying to coax something out of him.

“Depends on what you look for in music.” He was resisting, or at least trying to, by deflecting the question.

“I like anything that has good vocals and melody, has passion and above all, has a good beat.”

“Narrows it down.” he said sarcastically, but with a hint of teasing.

“It’s vague, I know. Anyway, the real reason I’m here is you.” she stated evenly. Jack nearly dropped the album.

“What?” he replied, looking at straight at her. Elsa felt her breathing hitch slightly when she met his cobalt gaze, which exuded surprise and a little fear.

“Yes,” she continued, intent on finishing, “I wanted to remind you our prior engagement still stands. I’m taking you out for a coffee to repay you for stopping me from falling.”

_Oh, that._

Jack had to hide the sigh of relief behind a rolling of the eyes.

“You’re not going to let that drop, are you?” he nearly groaned, though Elsa didn’t miss the split-second curl of his mouth.

“Nope.” she smiled, knowing she had won.

“Fine. Four o’clock on Monday. The Orient Espresso.” he sighed, conceding defeat.

“It’s a date.” Elsa smiled, and then fidgeted in her leather jacket pocket for her smartphone.

“Here, let me give you my-” she began, but when she looked up he had disappeared. The familiar feeling of infuriation crept into her chest as she frowned, looking around the store for the white-haired Houdini.

Movement from the pop section caught her eye, and she spotted Anna’s hand stuck into the air, fingers extended in a sign. Elsa narrowed her eyes in confusion, then realisation dropped on her head as she darted her head down to check her phone.

_4.49pm. Shit._

She turned and strode out of the door past a bewildered Eugene, crossing the miraculously calm road toward her Cadillac. She felt something was different about it though, and her suspicions were confirmed when she noticed that the car seemed to sink about four inches on the left side.

The tyres had been slashed. Elsa would be going nowhere.


	8. From Out Of Nowhere

The sheer volume of profanities that escaped Elsa’s tender lips would have made even Gordon Ramsay blush and Samuel L. Jackson flinch. In fact, nearly every curse word known to mankind was uttered to the world.

“Jesus fucking Christ! Fucking assholes! What the fuck?” she practically shrieked, the stress and panic overcoming her as she stared angrily at the damage. Both of the driver’s side tyres had long gashes, completely deflating them and rendering the car immobile.

“Awesome fucking timing, seriously! Fuck this!” she shrieked once more, flailing her arms to the sky in exasperation. Passers-by stared incredulously at the panicking woman.

“Well, that certainly illustrates the diversity of the word ‘ _fuck’._ ”

Elsa whirled around, ready to tear the head from the owner of the offending sarcastic remark, and fixed a furious glare upon Jack who was casually leaning against a wall lighting a cigarette.

“Problem?” he followed up, unconcerned with the withering expression on her elegant features.

“My tyres have been slashed. Gee, what do _you_ think?” she hissed scathingly, sarcasm dripping from every word. Jack merely grunted, taking a few steps forward and kneeling to inspect the damage, cigarette hanging from his mouth as his eyes roved along the tyres.

“I take it you have somewhere to be.” he deduced, still looking at the slashed rubber.

“I have a meeting in…eight minutes!” Elsa groaned as she checked her phone, starkly aware of the dwindling time. Jack stood and turned, regarding her with a look in his eyes that she couldn’t quite describe. It made her heart flutter a little.

“Want a lift?”

Elsa recoiled in surprise.

“Wait, what? No, I couldn’t possibly impose on you like that, I can just call a cab…” she said quietly, taken aback by the out-of-the-blue offer of help. Jack shrugged.

“Your call.” he said indifferently, and fishing his smartphone from his military jacket, he turned and walked away, cigarette still dangling out of his mouth as he dialled a number and raised it to his ear. Elsa stood for a moment watching him leave, nursing the surprise and the feeling of being torn.

On the one hand, this gentleman hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about…anything in fact. She barely knew a thing about him, other than he had a reputation for violence at two different educational establishments, and that he had a sister…and he really disliked the moniker Jack Frost. He intrigued and yet scared her a little.

On the other hand, despite his issues with social anxiety and people in general, there he was offering his help. Twice in one day. And the thing that bugged Elsa so much was that she had worked out the look in his eyes: sincerity. He seemed to actually _care_.

_Maybe Rapunzel was right._

“Hey, Jack? Wait up!” she called after him. Jack turned and regarded her with a ‘Well?’ expression.

“A lift would be good. Thanks.”

Jack was still on the phone, but inclined his head in the direction he was walking as he strode off again. Elsa cast one last look at the unfortunate tyres before hurriedly catching up to the seemingly disinterested man.

He was anything but disinterested. Inside, he was _pissed_. So much so, he had to avoid snapping at the voice on the other end of the call. Elsa caught up to him just as he began to speak.

“Yeah, is Sandy there? I have a friend who has car problems.”

Elsa smiled and looked a tiny bit shy at the word _friend._ She was thankful that she was just behind him as they walked.

“He can? Great. Blue Cadillac opposite Arendelle Music. Nah, I’ll cover it. Thanks. Bye.”

Sliding the phone back into his inner pocket, he stepped to the right and slowed slightly so Elsa was alongside him.

“Got someone to see to your car.” he said, as though it was no big thing.

“You didn’t need to, I could have called Blue Flag…” she said, puzzlement growing inside her. Three times now. Jack made a disdainful sound and scoffed.

“Pfft. Blue Flag are shit. Takes them two days to repair a wheel, and that’s if they’re not feeling lazy. My guy can have it done by the end of your meeting.”

“Wow, I think that’s the most words you’ve ever said to me.” she smiled, teasing. Jack stopped short, and regarded her with an annoyed look.

“Keep it up, you can walk.”

“Sorry, it’s just…nice.” she looked away, anxious to hide the slight heat rising in her cheeks. Jack made an _mmm_ sound, and began to walk again before a hand caught his arm. He froze and glanced down, following the arm up to Elsa’s grateful face. Everything within him was screaming to pull his arm away, yet he elected to keep it where it was. Even Elsa noticed that the touch lingered for longer than a split second.

“Thanks for this. I appreciate it.”

Jack hesitated, unable to speak as their eyes locked. Imperceptibly he shook himself and blinked a few times as reality came back to him.

“Don’t mention it. My car’s just over here.”

He stamped out the cigarette as he opened the front passenger door to a 1967 black Chevrolet Impala, and waited as Elsa slowly stepped forward clutching the straps of her handbag, her eyes tracing over every inch of the impossibly clean car.

“So this is your car?” she whispered, then whistled appreciatively. Jack made a motion as though checking his watch, and she got the message. Climbing into the passenger seat, she settled into the soft, luxurious leather as he closed the door behind her, before he quickly strode over to the driver’s door and climbed in too.

“So where to?” he asked, sliding the keys into the ignition and prompting the car to roar aggressively. The seats shook slightly as the metal beast began to stretch its limbs, ready to assault the road.

“Fractal Fashion, you know the building?”

Jack nodded, eyes in the wing mirrors as he slid the car into D and pulled sharply out, before turning left at the crossroads towards the three tall towers a couple of miles away. Elsa wasn’t sure whether she should be terrified or aroused by the rumbling of the car or Jack’s aggressive driving as he weaved in and out of traffic, so she busied herself with placing a call to Kai’s office.

“It’s Elsa. I’m on my way to the meeting, had car problems. A friend is giving me a ride.”

Jack felt an undefinable sensation in his chest at the word.

“What? The meeting already started? It’s only 4:57!”

Elsa nearly didn’t speak the last number as at the mention of being late for the meeting, Jack had gunned the acceleration and the sudden lurch of the car forced her backwards into the seat. Ending the call in frustration, she ran her free hand through her hair and sighed deeply.

“Ever get the feeling someone’s trying to keep something from you?” she mused aloud, not really a question.

“All the time.” Jack responded before he knew it, then a warning bell rang in the corners of his mind as he realised he had let something slip, however cryptic it may have been.

Awkward silence fell between the two, Jack nursing the worry of something sneaking out of his mouth, and Elsa pondering the thought that the inscrutable Jackson Overland, in the time it takes to beat a wing or steal a breath, had just opened up a part of himself.

She wondered what else lay behind those high walls, covered in ice, sarcasm and indifference.

“We’re here.”

In one fluid and slightly hasty movement after announcing their arrival, Jack had already pulled over, exited the driver’s side door and had opened the passenger door before Elsa even knew he had moved.

_Jeez. He’s got the disappearing and reappearing act down to a fine art._

“Thank you,” she said as she slid from the seat and had rounded the bonnet when she called behind her, “by the way, have you considered a career as a ninja?”

“Huh?” Jack uttered quizzically, but Elsa had already entered the revolving door into the imposing, towering Fractal Fashion building.

-

Her swift strides through the brightly lit, spacious first floor reception preceded a rush of cold air behind her, making the security guard who nodded in greeting and the receptionist bitterly shiver.

The _click-clack_ of her recently purchased two inch blue heels on the polished marble floor resonated throughout the area and indicated purpose, strength and direction. Her face was etched with unwavering determination, and more than a little anger shone in her eyes. So much so, in fact, that gazes were averted and people shuffled out of her way, even if they were nowhere near her warpath.

One of the four elevators was fortuitously available for her use and she stepped inside, hammering the top floor button like her life depended on it. After what seemed like an eternity, the doors finally closed and Elsa was on her way up, praying that no-one would call the lift on its ascent. She ground her teeth as she stared irritably at the LED counter above the door, as the numbers within went higher and higher.

Three floors left and she was bouncing restlessly on the balls of her feet, grumbling to herself about the irritatingly cheery elevator music that filled the confined space like a sickly sweet fog.

_I must remind myself to change it to something less…archaic._

The doors lazily drew open with a _bing_ as the elevator reached the top floor, and Elsa turned right out of the lift, marching angrily through the frosted glass doors and bypassing a protesting secretary as she practically pushed the second set of similar doors off their hinges, glaring at the occupants inside with a decidedly _pissed-off_ expression.

A portly, balding man with auburn hair that only covered the back and sides of his head jumped to his feet in surprise. He was wearing a white business shirt with a grey pinstriped waistcoat and similar trousers, and he wore half-moon glasses that perched precariously on the end of his nose. He regarded Elsa with a shocked expression, clearly startled by her sudden entrance.

“You startled me, Elsa! It’s five oh five, where were you?”

“Some asinine jerk thought it would be clever to slash my tyres, Kai. Considering I was supposed to be present for this meeting, I found the timing to be very…convenient.” she uttered sternly, fixing Kai with a glare. The man tried to open his mouth, but Elsa cut him off, leaning on his table with both hands.

“Funny thing is, I called here eight minutes ago, _before_ five o’clock and what did I hear? The meeting had already started. So what’s going on, and why do I feel like I’m being kept out of the loop?” she practically snarled, fixing the nervous Kai with a glare rivalling that of Jack’s.

“I believe I can answer that question.”

Elsa snapped her eyes left, and they fell upon a man in dressed almost entirely in black. His trousers, waistcoat, shirt and suit jacket were all light-destroying black, pressed into creases so sharp they could draw blood. His hair was slicked back and his eyes were malevolent, almost voracious. He had a startling similarity to another slug with the Black name. He stood and offered a smile at the young woman as he extended his hand, but there was no warmth in his mouth at all.

“Richard Black, CEO of Black Advertising Corporation, at your service.” he announced, his voice oily and nauseating. Elsa made no move to shake his hand; instead she regarded him with the same icy glare.

“What are you doing here?” she asked coldly. Richard didn’t even flinch at her tone. He opened a briefcase and pulled out several documents, offering them to her. When she made no motion, he simply placed them on the desk.

“I came to inform Kai that Fractal Fashion has gained the interest of Black Advertising, and we will be setting a plan in motion to acquire the company.”

Elsa had to swallow to conceal the shock, and the dry throat that came with the revelation. In fact, for the first time in a long time, the seeds of worry about her company’s future began to take hold.

“A takeover.” she murmured, her voice cracking slightly. Richard smiled.

“I wouldn’t go so far as to call it that. Merely, a co-ordination of financial interest.” he smiled, placing his hands behind his back as his voice took on a more condescending tone.

“Of course, you will have your reservations, but in time you will see that being a part of our…extended…family will be beneficial.”

Elsa heard enough, and the stern demeanour returned with a vengeance.

“Get out.”

“Excuse me?” he said indignantly.

“Get out, or I will have security throw you out.” she growled, her eyes not moving from his enraged light brown, almost yellow orbs. Richard Black studied her for a moment, debating a threat, but decided to comply for now. Retrieving a briefcase, he shot Elsa a contemptuous look, and silently left the room.

Elsa felt her entire body relax and hung her head, before wearily sidling over to the second of the two chairs in front of Kai’s desk and collapsing into it. She closed her eyes and pinched the bridge of her nose, completely slumping into the rich leather.

“You know what this means, don’t you?” Kai asked quietly, looking anywhere but at the drained woman in front of him. Elsa opened her eyes and stared out of the huge windows, gazing at the city as though it was the last time she would ever see it. Sighing, she rose to her feet, numbly walked to the closest window and rested her left forearm against the glass, leaning her head against her arm, gazing out at nothing in particular.

She knew exactly what it meant.


	9. Bits and Pieces

The CEO and CEO-to-be spent the next hour discussing possible alternatives or defences. Terms like _Golden Parachute, Poison Pill_ and _Killer Bees_ floated around the office like jargon for a role-playing game, along with long-term tactical planning.

“We could employ the _Pac-Man defence…_ ” Elsa had half-heartedly suggested, but Kai shot it down mercilessly.

“We would bankrupt the company before we bought even a quarter of BAC’s stock, Elsa. Black would take over in an instant.”

All of the strategies eventually pointed to one thing, one singular inevitability – Black Advertising would eventually sweep in and take over Fractal Fashion, install a new board of directors and leave Elsa, Anna and Kai in the dust. It would either take a week, or a year, but eventually Fractal Fashion would fall.

Just like every other company that stood in Richard Black’s way.

Elsa was leaning in the corner of the elevator as it inexorably descended to the first floor, her spirit drained and her heart weary. Kai had a plan to delay the takeover as long as possible: he would employ a _shark watcher_ to scrutinise the stock market and alert them to any purchases of Fractal’s stock by Black Advertising, and he would _sandbag_ as long as he possibly could in the hope that a _White Knight_ would come to their rescue. Elsa didn’t hold much hope to that, Black Advertising was simply too large a company and too wealthy to resist for long.

But resist she would. She had to. In her mind, there was no other way.

A vibration and the first few seconds of _Undisclosed Desires_ by Muse alerted her to a call, and she obediently pulled out her smartphone from her handbag. The picture of Anna smiled at her from the touchscreen, and Elsa hesitated briefly before pressing the Answer button, wondering just how she was going to explain to her younger sister that their beloved parents’ company was on borrowed time. Taking a deep breath, she tried to hide the deflated feeling in her voice and raised the phone to her ear.

“Hey, Anna.”

_“Hey, sis. I saw someone tow our car away about ten minutes after you left, what happened? Are you okay?”_

“Yeah,” Elsa lied, “I’m fine. Someone slashed the tyres.”

_“Holy shit! What did you do, call a cab?”_

“No, Jack gave me a lift and called someone to fit new tyres.”

_“Wait wait, back it up. General Grumpy actually offered to_ help _?”_

“Yes, he did. I wouldn’t have arrived on time if it wasn’t for him.” Elsa answered, her voice taking on a surprisingly warm tone.

_“Wow Elsa, you almost sound like you have a crush.”_

“I do not,” Elsa scoffed at the idea, before cynically finishing, “besides given his track record; he’ll have left me here so I’ll have to call a cab.”

The elevator doors lazily slid apart when she reached the first floor, and Elsa numbly walked out and toward the main entrance, still in conversation.

_“If he did, I’ll kill him. I swear I’ll use Rapunzel’s frying pan. Anyway, how did the meeting go?”_

Elsa’s throat went a little dry and she found herself unable to tell her sister.

“I’ll tell you later. By the way, where are you?”

_“Home, Eugene insisted we call a cab before he pulled a muscle. The man has no endurance. When will you be here?”_

Elsa had just stepped through the revolving doors, frozen to the spot in surprise.

_“Hello? You there, Elsa?”_

“Sorry,” Elsa replied, stirred by her sister’s voice, “I’m here. Listen, I gotta go. I won’t be long.”

She ended the call and placed the phone back in her bag, stepping down the snowy steps toward a waiting Jack, who was half-sat, half-leaning on the bonnet of his car, studying his smartphone with half a cigarette in his mouth.

“You waited for me.” she smiled, feeling heat settle in her cheeks and a spark of appreciation in her chest. Jack looked up, his expression impassive as always.

“What was I supposed to do, leave you to call a cab?” Incredulous, but barely noticeable in his even tone.

Elsa fought hard to prevent the heat in her cheeks turn into a blaze, so she looked downwards and shuffled her left foot slightly, squeezing the handles of the handbag on her right shoulder. Jack pushed himself off the bonnet and walked to the passenger door, opening it whilst flicking the cigarette unceremoniously into the road. Relaxing a little, Elsa followed the same path Jack walked around the car, and gently laid a hand on his left shoulder-blade as she passed him to slide into the seat. His body tensed at her touch and she heard an audible hitch of his breath, but he said nothing. Deciding discretion was the better part of valour, she kept quiet as well.

Jack gently closed her door and moved round to slide into the driver’s seat, igniting the engine before he had closed the driver side door. Placing one hand on the wheel and the other on the gear stick, he paused for a moment. Noticing the hesitation, Elsa glanced at him curiously.

He was staring intently at the dials in front of him, his eyebrows knitting and his mouth opening and closing as if he wanted to say something, but couldn’t find the words…or the courage. His chest rose and fell as it does when someone is preparing for something. Elsa chose this moment to take a good look at his features, how the snow-white hair was slightly messy and unkempt, adding to his clean yet rugged looks. How his eyes, even when gazing at nothing in particular, hid secrets behind the cobalt blue. She wondered what his smile looked like and, for a split second, pondered how his lips would feel.

Jack, however, was having severe difficulty controlling his train of thought. It was a simple matter of drive her to the building, and drive her back to her car…but everything since the moment she touched his arm over an hour ago up to and including the searing hot sensation in his left shoulder made the matter anything but simple. In fact, he was terrified. Sure, he had accidentally bumped into people and experienced nothing more than mild anxiety, but this was so much different. So much more…intense.

_We’re sorry, but the train scheduled to arrive at Platform Thought has been delayed due to massive derailment._

“Are you okay, Jack?” she asked quietly. Jack blinked a few times and his breath hitched, stirred from his introspection by her voice to his right. He glanced a couple of times in her direction, before his brain finally shifted into gear along with his hand. Pulling out a little more sharply than he would have liked, he gunned the acceleration and pointed the car to the western edge of the city. The car roared in fury, as though protecting its passengers from the traffic.

“Yeah,” he lied, “I’m, er, fine. Sandy called a few minutes before you came out; he said your car is ready.”

“Wow, he is fast!” Elsa’s eyebrows rose.

“Told you. I’ll drop you off at his garage; you should be good to go from there.”

_What if I don’t want to?_

_What if I don’t want you to?_

Jack pretty much said nothing from that point on, so Elsa gazed thoughtfully out of the window to avoid the awkward silence. Her mind raced through the day’s events, from the meeting in the coffee shop, the bump in the street, Rapunzel and Eugene’s arrival, all the way to the dreaded meeting with Richard Black.

She wished it didn’t, but the slight flutters in her heart died under an onslaught of hot anger. Fractal Fashion was to become the latest in a long line of acquisitions by Black Advertising, almost like a notch on the bedpost after a school jock’s latest conquest, and the thought sickened her.

The worst part was, Richard Black was a sadistic CEO. Normally hostile takeovers were fairly quick depending on how defensively the target company played, but Black liked to take things slow. He knew when acquiring a new company that they would do everything in their power to fight it.

He would let them. He would let the target exhaust every method of fighting back, because he knew that in the end, the target would be weakened and all he needed to do was administer the killing blow. The first meeting they would be defiant, resistant, tell him they would never let BAC sweep in, install a new board of directors and warp their company into a twisted version of itself. As time went on, eventually the final meeting would take place…and there would be no defiance. No resistance.

No hope.

Elsa already had the first meeting, but she refused to acknowledge the possibility of the last. The thought made her so angry that it began to seep into her voice…and the next conversation between her and Jack would be one she would regret for some 

“I guess the meeting didn’t go well.” Jack stated evenly, eyes still on the road.

“Observant of you.” she said curtly, not looking away from the window. Jack shot her a look, a little taken aback by the sudden change in tone. He tried to ignore it.

“I understand why you’re angry-” he tried to continue, but Elsa rounded on him. She shot him a dark glare, and for a second, Jack flinched.

“Oh please, tell me. Enlighten me as to how you can possibly understand the situation I am in. Go on, I’m breathless to hear your explanation.” she hissed, the anger in her voice impossible to control. It was too seductive, especially the idea of firing back with the same words that he used on Monday in the cafeteria.

However, as soon as the words left her mouth, the expression on Jack’s face instantly killed the anger inside her and left only guilt. It was only there for a few seconds before the ice grew, but it was one that caught her breath and left a remorseful ache in her chest.

He swerved sharply to the right, stopping in front of a garage signed “Sandy’s Machines”. He left the engine running but shifted the car into P, gazing intently out of the window as his chest rose and fell in an effort to calm himself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Forget it.” he curtly cut her off.

“Please, let me-”

“I said forget it.” he repeated, holding back the harshness in his voice with difficulty. Elsa opened and closed her mouth a few times, staring at him regretfully. He remained in his seat waiting for her to leave, glaring at something only he could see. Eventually she complied, but not before pulling out a small scrap of paper from her handbag, scribbling something upon it, then leaving it on her seat. She had barely closed the door before the feral roar indicated the gunning of his acceleration, and in a few short seconds he was gone, leaving Elsa staring after him with a regretful expression.

“Excuse me, are you Miss Elsa?”

She turned to find a short, tired looking man with eyes that indicated several decades’ worth of experience, wearing green overalls and covered in so much grease that he looked almost grey. He was wiping his hand with a cloth that was probably white once upon a time.

“Yes?”

“I’m Pabbie, I’m the co-head mechanic. If you’ll come with me?” he suggested, standing to the side and gesturing toward the garage. Elsa hesitated a moment before walking to the garage entrance, the fact that she was in a totally new place with complete strangers was not lost on her.

“We noticed that your tyres were also quite worn in addition to the vandalism damage, so we replaced them. We even gave the body a bit of a spit and polish, if you’ll forgive the turn of phrase.”

Elsa felt dread creep into her chest, coupled with the irritation someone gets when their mechanic casually mentions _‘your whatchamajig is out of alignment by point two gullibles, so we’re gonna have to charge you for that’._ She briefly considered berating Pabbie for his initiative.

It wasn’t until they had entered the garage proper that she saw exactly what they had done, and her eyes widened almost to their limit. The tyres had been replaced with brand new, top of the range tyres and the ‘spit and polish’ turned out to be a full body clean. It was so shiny that Elsa nearly fished out her sunglasses from her handbag.

_Shit, that’ll be expensive. I knew I should have called Blue Flag, at least I know their prices._

“If you don’t mind my asking, how much is it going to cost me?” she asked weakly, dreading the answer.

“Nothing.” Pabbie answered, simply. Elsa turned at him and gaped. She just about managed to squeak a ‘why’?

“Mr Overland covered the cost.”

Elsa damn near fainted. This was too much. She raised a hand to her forehead, trying to comprehend exactly what had happened. The man with a poker face to rival that of professional players, who had aloofness down to a fine art, had gone and paid for a professional tyre repair and full body clean – all without giving her even a clue as to his intent. As far as she knew, he had just got someone to see to her damaged tyres, not make her beloved Cadillac look brand new.

Another mechanic slid out from under a different car and deftly rose to his feet. Under the grease he had golden blonde hair, which stuck out in various directions as though he had a permanent electric shock coursing through him. He walked, almost floated over to Elsa and Pabbie, and fixed her with a scrutinising gaze that made her feel a little uncomfortable.

“This is Sandy, the guy who owns this garage.” Pabbie introduced him.

Sandy was completely silent, holding his hands together as he continued to study her. Elsa looked away and squeezed her handbag straps shyly; there was something in Sandy’s gaze that made her feel like she was being read, almost inspected. Finally, he parted his hands and made several complicated hand gestures, too fast for Elsa to recognise but easy enough for his colleague.

“He says: I can see why Mr Overland has taken such a shine to you.” Sandy nodded, looking pleased with Pabbie’s translation. Elsa’s eyes flitted from one to the other, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“Um, how can you tell? It’s not like he’s an open book…”

Sandy smiled. It was a warm, comforting smile, but in his eyes lay a look that screamed _‘Isn’t it obvious?’_ while Pabbie spoke once more.

“Mr Overland came to us two years ago, I believe. His Impala had been severely damaged in a terrible accident, from which he was lucky to walk away, though I do believe he still bears the scars from the shattered glass.”

“Holy shit…”

The image of a wrecked Impala dominated her mind, changing from it being wrapped around a tree, to a head-on collision with another car, to it being on its roof and a motionless Jack sprawled several feet away, his white hair a crimson mess.

_Why can’t you tell me yourself? Why do you hide?_

“The Impala was a write-off by any other car mechanic’s standards, but to Sandy and me, it was a challenge. It took us a few months, but we eventually restored it to a better than new state…and Mr Overland has come to us ever since, no matter where he was or how minor the problem. He trusts us, and trusted us to take care of your Cadillac. That’s how I know.”

-

After thanking the two mechanics – and respectfully avoiding shaking their hands – Elsa was on the road once more in the direction of home, sinking into the familiar feeling of comfortable leather against her back and legs. She had wondered whether they had done something to the engine or the transmission, because the Cadillac seemed to purr more appreciatively than before. And yet, she kind of missed the territorial growl of the Impala, and the aggressive control of its driver.

Elsa’s mind had been reeling since the revelations in the garage, trying to reconcile Jack’s indifferent behaviour with everything that she had been told so far, oddly enough by everyone except the man himself. She wondered why he seemed to give her so much yet so little of what mattered. And why did it leave her wanting more? To see what was behind the frozen walls of distrust and ice?

The answer came quicker than she thought.

He _was_ giving her more, but it was only little, almost imperceptible things. Giving someone a lift was nice enough but it was a relatively chaste and platonic gesture. Friends give friends lifts all the time, but this was different. He had defied her cynical expectations and waited for her in the snow for over an hour, had her car fixed, agreed to a date and the biggest thing – in her mind – was that he had opened his gates twice. First was an offhand remark, and the second was his understanding.

And she rewarded that temporary opening of the gates with a harsh, condescending snap. Even if the frustration was justified and wholly understandable, the timing was absolutely catastrophic.

The hurt and anger etched into his otherwise stony features was something she did not expect, and was something she hoped she would never see again. The regret sank in when she realised that the stung expression was probably the last one he would ever show her.

_Jeez, Elsa? You blind? You’re attracted to him, and it’s obvious to everyone else but you that the feeling is mutual. You just don’t know why._

“But why is it so hard for him to show it?” Elsa whispered, vocalising the thought as she pulled up outside her massive house, where Anna was waiting worriedly outside the front door.

_It doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve got bigger things to worry about than the will-he-won’t-he going through your mind right now. You need to work out how to keep Fractal alive, not worry about someone who, come Monday, is probably going to be an asshole again._

-

It had been three hours since he had dropped her off in a huff outside Sandy’s place, and Jack was sat on his sofa with his feet up on the coffee table, _Our Time is Running Out_ by Muse vibrating the floor as he tapped his mouth with a pencil. Rather than drink himself into a stupor, he had decided to do something more productive like catch up on his Business major studies, poring over old notes from his previous colleges.

North had him pegged to take over the company and besides, he was out of whisky and couldn’t be bothered to get more.

_“If a Black Knight is looking to take over your business,”_ he thought, reading from his notes, _“there are loads of ways you can prevent that, but the most clichéd way is a White Knight.”_

_Shyeah. Could’ve used a White Knight a few years ago._

Jack grunted and dismissively tossed the pad onto the coffee table, exhaling deeply as he glared at nothing in particular, when a brief glimmer of light from the table caught his eye. Picking up his phone, he pressed the icon which told him there were two texts waiting for him, one from Aster and the other from his godfather.

_“Saturday is a go. 12pm – Aster.”_

_“Not that I don’t trust you, but as soon as you’re finished with Aster, you’re coming to the house for dinner  – Nick x”_

Jack sighed exasperatedly, tossing the phone back. Sure, North was just looking out for him, but this felt too much like an intervention. Feeling the need for a smoke, Jack pulled his jacket from the sofa and slid it on, and as he reached into his outer right pocket for the cigarettes and lighter he paused as his fingers touched something that wasn’t usually there. Pinning it between his index and middle finger, he pulled out a small scrap of paper. Recalling it as something he absent-mindedly picked up from the car, he turned it over in his fingers to read the writing.

_1-555-2662325_

_Elsa x_

Jack felt a twinge of guilt, remembering the last conversation they had. He knew exactly what Elsa was going through so he shouldn’t have been surprised she reacted the way she did, it was just horrible timing that he had involuntarily opened up at the same time.

He deftly slid a cigarette out from the carton and placed it in his mouth, then bent down to retrieve his phone from the table. Inputting the new number, he pressed the _Text_ icon and hesitated, wondering what in the hell he was going to type for the very first text.

Anxiety coursed through him, but it wasn’t the freak-out he had in the coffee shop. It was more like the nervousness someone experiences when they are about to talk to a person they are attracted to. The feeling was foreign to him, he had long forgotten how being attracted to someone feels.

He hesitated, wondering if he should even bother. Elsa had pretty much made it clear that Monday was not a date but the repayment of a debt, nothing more. After all, what did she see in him?

_Probably nothing. You’re not exactly a catch. All you know is how to shut people out, and that means one day you’ll die alone and unloved. No-one cares about you, because you won’t let them._

He typed a couple of words and sent the text anyway. After all, he had nothing to lose.

-

Elsa had never felt so tired in her life as she climbed wearily into her king-size bed.

It was pretty much all-hands-on-deck from the moment she woke up, and the day had brought so many emotions and revelations that her head still reeled whenever she tried to order it in her mind. From the happy arrival of Rapunzel and Eugene to the horrible meeting, and the profound revelation during the journey back from the garage, it had exhausted her.

So much so, that she was grateful to her little sister that she didn’t push for information, and deflected the subject whenever Rapunzel or Eugene tried to bring it up over dinner. Anna had ordered a Chinese takeout when she saw exactly _how_ tired Elsa was, figuring that nice, easy comfort food was the way to go.

After dinner, Elsa had made her excuses and retreated to her bedroom for the rest of the night, content to be alone with her thoughts and enjoy the silence within her room.

The silence was broken, however, by the vibration of her phone on the bedside cabinet. She haphazardly reached over and pressed the standby button, and the screen came to life. A text from an unknown number had arrived, and Elsa frowned, wondering who it could be. Pressing the _open_ button, she felt a smile light up her face and a flicker of warmth in her heart as she tapped a reply and sent it on its way.

It only had one word and a name, but that didn’t matter. That one word spoke volumes.

_“Goodnight. – Jack”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried to make a US mobile phone number (yes, I'm from the UK) look authentic, and the numbers are a little Easter egg.


	10. That Damn Day Part 1

The sudden blast of Led Zeppelin’s _Immigrant Song_ stirred Jack from his deep slumber at about eight in the morning, and with a sound that imitated an amorous walrus he groggily fumbled for his phone, hoping to kill the sound and sleep some more.

He wasn’t used to getting a good night’s sleep, and was thankful that he lived on his own – any room-mates or some such would have immortalised his less-than-graceful awakening on Facebook and Youtube. He would never live it down.

_Wait, Led Zeppelin…a text?_

He quickly gathered himself and tried once more to grab the phone, knocking it onto the floor with a thump. Cursing his clumsy haste, he stretched down from the bed, anxious to remain within the comfortable sheets as he finally laid his fingers upon the device, picking it up and swiftly checking the screen.

No text, just an alarm and a reminder for twelve o’clock on Saturday, December 8th. Today. He flicked through the messages to check if he had missed it, but the last one was from Elsa at about half past nine the previous night.

_“Goodnight! Elsa x”_

He debated firing off another text, but the growling in his stomach that rivalled the Impala told him it could wait. He had a long drive ahead of him, and sustenance was definitely needed.

_I’ll grab something on the way. It’s a two hour drive._

Stretching clumsily, he nearly fainted when he caught a whiff of his own scent.

_Jeez! Alright, shower first; otherwise I’ll get quarantined by the CDC._

-

A shower, quick change of clothes later – he had elected for a black sleeveless shirt with _I AM GROOT_ on the front and comfortable black jeans – and a quick stop for food and gas, the Impala was roaring along the road like a mechanical beast, dead set on the highway west out of Arendelle City.

Flicking through his extensive playlist on his phone he eventually gave up trying to choose a song and just set it to random. The heavy drum intro of _Metalingus_ by Alter Bridge challenged the Impala for dominance in the decibel competition, and with a strike of panic Jack quickly pressed the skip button several times, desperate to change the song before Myles Kennedy began to sing.

_I still can’t listen to that song. It doesn’t hold the same meaning that it used to, and probably never will._

His heart was thumping loudly in his chest as his breathing came rapidly, and a memory that he had long suppressed tried to claw its way to the surface, desperate to be seen. Jack mentally held it under the metaphorical water, feeling it struggle and thrash until finally it went limp, sinking right back down into the depths of his mind. He couldn’t let it out, not yet…and maybe never.

_The End of Heartache_ roared out from the speakers once Jack had stopped skipping tracks, and satisfied that he wasn’t going to freak out and lose control of the car, he began to relax, slowing his breathing down to its original regularity. His heart, however, was not so easily dissuaded.

A sign approached and Jack scrutinised it, noting with a little pride that he was ahead of schedule. It said ‘ _BURGESS, 100 MILES ROUTE---’_ though Jack missed the route number. He wasn’t bothered though, he knew exactly where he was going, as though he was being pulled there.

-

Elsa had been up since six o’clock that morning and spent the first three hours of the day – aside from the usual morning routine – poring over documents and billing reports that had been delivered to her house by courier. They were mostly historical records of monthly income and records of who owned shares in the company, along with records from other companies who had long fallen under the heel of Black Advertising’s boot that were generously supplied by their ex-CEOs.

The idea was that she would examine the average and projected sales of Fractal Fashion’s products along with their monthly expenditure for things like advertising, events and production costs, to work out how much they would have available to finance the resistance. Kai had emailed over a plan in the early hours of the morning detailing his tactics to her, asking for her perusal and approval. Elsa didn’t know _why_ he did that, he was still technically the CEO of the company and, while she had influence within the board, ultimately the decisions were his until it was her time to take over. She guessed it was just out of respect.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, she slumped backwards on the backrest of the highchair and exhaled deeply, her mind beginning to lose its cohesion. She knew she wasn’t feeling great in her head, with everything that happened over the past week and it was getting a little on top of her. Running a hand through her hair, currently braid free and hanging loosely over her left shoulder, she decided to give it a break. The numbers could wait until later.

Periodically she checked her phone in case any sneaky messages had slipped through - muffled by the sounds of _Uprising_ by Muse resonating from her laptop - but each time she was disappointed.

_I wonder what he’s doing…_

She picked up her phone and was midway through typing when shuffling and yawning reached her ears from the bedroom area, and Elsa couldn’t help but chuckle to herself as she quietly placed the phone back on the breakfast bar, readying a sarcastic remark.

“Looks like the Zombie Apocalypse has begun, and in my house no less!”

Anna shot her a glower, or at least tried to. Her face puffy from sleep and looking like she had slept for a year, her hair was a mess and she was wearing a flowery pink dressing gown so the best glower she could manage was an incredibly cute squint.

“Need. Coffee.” was Anna’s attempt at a retort. Yep, a zombie.

“It’s ready for you to press the button. Have zombies grown out of the taste of human brains, now?” she continued the assault.

“Nope. Just yours.” Anna fired back as the dispenser began to gurgle into life. Elsa stuck her tongue in her cheek as her eyebrows raised in a challenged manner, her eyes flickering with playful vengeance.

“Oh, it’s on!” she cackled, and chased her squealing sister around the kitchen.

“Stop! Stop! Low-hanging fruit! I haven’t had my coffee yet, I’m defenceless!” Anna shrieked, tearing around the breakfast bar and into the living room, vaulting effortlessly over the sofa to get away from her relentless elder sister. Eugene had just walked into the kitchen and burst into raucous laughter, gesturing madly to Rapunzel who had just left the bedroom to see what all the fuss was about.

“Punzie, you’ve…gotta…see this!” he said in between fits of laughter, as Rapunzel poked her head around the corner and snorted into mirthful cackles herself.

Elsa had pinned Anna on the sofa under several large red cushions. Sat on the middle cushion which was on Anna’s chest, she bounced occasionally with an expression of victorious pride.

“What’s the matter, ‘sis?” she teased, darting her hands under the cushion to tickle a squirming Anna. “Wanna give up, or should I tickle you some more?”

“Pweathe thtop! I can’t thake anymore!” shrieked Anna, kicking and squirming to try and get away from her elder sister’s relentless fingers.

“What do you guys think? Has she had enough?” Elsa called to the two spectators who, to Anna’s dismay as she managed to poke her head out from one of the cushions, grinned and shook their heads.

“Majority verdict! Plea overruled!” Elsa announced, her hands sliding once more between the cushions as the convulsions and squeals resumed once more.

“Ahahaha! Please, please stop! I can’t breathe!”

“Do you give up?”

“Yes, God yes!”

Elsa held her hands in the air as a sign of victory, and released a defeated Anna from the sofa. The younger sister practically staggered back to the coffee dispenser, gasping for breath as she tried to stop the laughter bubbling over once more.

The elder sister’s victory was short-lived however, as while she was dancing triumphantly back to the group, Rapunzel noticed Elsa’s phone screen was still active. Elsa froze, eyes darting between Rapunzel’s nosy eyes and the phone. She surged forward to get to it before Rapunzel did, however the heir to Corona Haircare was far too fast for her.

“You snooze, you lose. So, what’s here to gossip about…” she teased, inspecting the screen.

“ _‘Morning, how are you?’_ Succinct. I like it, if a little boring. So…who is the lucky recipient…”

Elsa cringed a little. She had escaped having to brief everyone on yesterday’s events and had hoped to avoid it today, but because of Rapunzel’s infernal reaction speed there was no escape this time. Rapunzel’s eyes went wide and she made an “oho!” sound.

“So, somebody has Jack Overland’s number!” she teased, sticking her tongue out. Anna nearly dropped her coffee and even Eugene gasped.

“Right,” Anna instantly took control, “This calls for a meeting. Rapunzel, coffee. Eugene, cookies. Hop to it, soldiers!”

Rapunzel and Eugene both bolted upright and saluted, then rushed off to their assigned tasks.

“I’m gonna get dressed, and then you’re gonna spill. Every detail.”

Elsa groaned and contemplated hiding in her room for the rest of the day, or perhaps, the year.

-

The drive to Burgess was shorter than anticipated, and Jack found that he was left with an hour to kill.

He had debated swinging by his old university and seeing if anything had changed, but decided against it. It held nothing that he wanted to remember, anyway. The last time he was there, another student had felt the brunt of his suppressed rage, and it was only because North’s lawyers argued ‘extenuating circumstances’ that Jack was able to avoid an assault charge…twice. While he was grudgingly grateful to Nick for saving his bacon, the prospect of jail time had meant little to him.

Electing to simply drive around Burgess, he happened upon many of his old stomping grounds, like the statue of Thaddeus Burgess where he kissed Eleanor Andersen when he was the tender age of fifteen.

_Hmm, Eleanor. Nice girl, but no fire. No passion, no independence. Never really had her own opinions, just everyone else’s._

He had been aimlessly driving for about half an hour when he had involuntarily pulled over near the city’s edge, as though his directionless travelling did indeed have a destination. Gazing out of the window, he recognised the sign.

_Burgess Cemetery_

He didn’t know how it happened, but it was as though something had taken control of his body. He killed the engine, slid out of the Impala and numbly walked inside the cemetery gates, to a place that only he knew. Little attention was paid to the well-tended flowers, the exceptionally clean headstones or the impeccably cut grass, or even the sprinkling of people who had come to pay their respects.

No, he was separate from all that, like it was a world away.  Following the path to the eastern edge of the cemetery, he walked up to two gravestones situated at the very edge of a long line. Stopping about two feet away, he dropped to his knees as though limp, and bowed his head.

_Sarah Elizabeth Overland_  
1965 – 2011   
Beloved Mother, Gone But Not Forgotten

_Sophie Marie Overland_  
2003 – 2011  
Always Within Our Hearts

 It was only for an instant, but the ice cracked enough to let a solitary tear slide down from his left eye as he traced along the letters and numbers dedicated to Sophie Overland’s memory.  His voice cracking, he could only let four words whisper from his lips.

“I miss you, snowflake.”

-

Elsa sank back into the sofa, massaging her temples in exasperation. Rapunzel and Eugene studied her from the opposite sofa on the other side of a coffee table, and Anna was sat practically on top of her. This had been the fourth time she had gone through it, and everyone seemed more focused on the fact that Jack had helped her out instead of the slow death of Fractal Fashion.

_Can’t blame them, Elsa. They don’t have the responsibilities that you do, lucky bastards._

“Then what happened when he dropped you off at this…Sandy’s?”

“I told you, we tore each other’s clothes off, he pulled me in to the back of the car and we fucked over and over again.” Elsa deadpanned, tiring of the constant badgering. She inwardly laughed when Anna exploded.

“WHAT?!” she jumped to her feet, leaning over her elder sister. Elsa returned it with an impassive gaze.

“This is, what, the fourth time I’ve gone through this? I was just checking you were paying attention, what with it being _the fourth fucking time!”_ she snapped.

Anna shrank a little, and sat back down. Eugene exhaled deeply, and suggested that Rapunzel should join him in making more coffee, which she quickly agreed.

“I’m sorry, Anna, I didn’t mean to snap. It’s just…I had the worst news from the company about Black Advertising, and all you guys seem to be concerned about is Jack.” she groaned.

“I’m sorry too…this is the last time, I promise. What happened when he dropped you off at Sandy’s?” she quietly spoke. Elsa sighed, and went through it again for hopefully the last time.

“He told me he understood what I was going through, and I snapped something really evil back at him, and I still regret what I said. Especially when Sandy told me he basically paid for the Cadillac’s repair. That text was all I heard from him since then, and I hope it means he’s not angry with me. I don’t know why, but I don’t want him to be.”

“It’s because you’ve got a crush, Elsie!” called Eugene from the kitchen, who promptly whimpered as Rapunzel threatened him with a frying pan for butting in. Elsa would have disagreed, but she had already come to the same conclusion yesterday.

“I know, but I’m not even sure it’s mutual.” she muttered.

“Guess you’ll find out on Monday, won’t you?” Anna smiled, laying a supportive hand on her sister’s leg.

“I suppose I will.” Elsa answered with a faraway look on her face as she smiled to herself.

_I suppose I will._

_-_

Pulling up outside Aster’s, he took a moment to check himself.

It wasn’t that he wanted to look good for Aster, it was more that he didn’t want him to suss anything out. The guy was an old acquaintance of Jack’s, and had this uncanny ability to see past the façade that people would wear when they came to him for his art. He rarely spoke more than a few clipped words, for which Jack was grateful, but it always gave him a nervous feeling when Aster was watching him, it was like he could see everything Jack was trying to hide.

Just like a certain someone in Arendelle City.

Praying that Aster wouldn’t say something, he slid out of the driver’s seat and locked the Impala, then walked through the frosted glass doors into Aster’s domain.

“Usual then, I take it?”

Jack’s head followed the familiar Australian drawl. Aster was sat behind the counter with his feet up, tracing an intricate Aboriginal salamander design onto a sheet of paper. Jack just grunted his answer.

Aster pulled his feet off the counter and stood, drawing himself to his full height. He was about six-three to Jack’s six, twenty-eight years old, and his frame indicated someone who spent a lot of time in the wild. He was medium build, with powerful muscles and tanned skin. A sleeveless khaki green vest showed off the myriad of tattoos on his arms, neck and shoulders, mostly Aboriginal designs of frogs, salamanders, kangaroos and snakes, with a few dot-work mandalas here and there. Blue-grey dreadlocks cascaded from his head in a ponytail down to the base of his spine, and vivid green eyes shone behind solid black rectangular glasses.

“Get yourself comfy then mate, I’ll finish setting up.” he drawled, walking past Jack toward the tray of paints and gloves.

Jack took off his jacket and hoody, hooking them onto the coat-stand near the working area. Striding over to the designated seat, he pulled off his top and tossed it in the general direction of his coats. He had been here twice before, but the sight of Aster’s shop always seemed new. Various posters and paintings were fixed untidily to the wall with lashings of sticky tack, and a cork hat was impaled to the wall above the door by a sharpened boomerang. Aster hated stereotypes about Australians, and quite often physically threw out people who thought it would be clever to butcher his accent in front of him. He was _that_ proud of his heritage…and _that_ grumpy.

Feeling the crinkle of the saran wrap on his back as he laid down upon the currently flat recliner chair, he absent-mindedly traced a finger along the multitude of scars that adorned his torso, every one of them bringing back the same memory. The jarring disorientation as the Impala swerved to avoid a truck on the icy roads in Burgess.

Losing control as the Impala fishtailed under the sudden steering change.

Covering his face with his arms as he flew through the windshield, razor sharp glass slicing into his left bicep, along his chest and back and his hip. Feeling the cold bite of snow mixing with the searing white hot pain in his body, blacking out several yards away from where the Impala hugged a wide, tall tree stump in a destructive embrace.

Aster cleared his throat as he carefully carried a tray of several tiny pots of paint, dozens of latex gloves and a sanitised cloth.

“So where are ya havin’ it, mate?” he asked after resting the tray on a steel work surface next to the recliner. Jack gestured toward the base of his neck where it met his collarbone, and Bunny promptly shaved the area, wiped off any hairs with a cloth soaked in distilled water and firmly pressed a transfer onto the desired spot, holding it for a few seconds. Satisfied, he removed the paper and a pair of purple snowflake outlines now sat happily below the other four.

Letting out a ‘hmm’ of pride, Aster busied himself with preparing the machinery, tapping his foot a few times on a button to test that everything was working properly. The device in his hand buzzed loudly in response, and he dipped the needle of it into some icy blue paint and with one hand stretching the skin around the purple snowflakes, he applied the machine to Jack’s neck.

Jack hitched his breath as the initial pain shot through his neck and shoulders, a sharp needling mixed with a burning sensation, but soon became accustomed to the feeling. After all, he had experienced it on this date twice before, and likely will do every year.

_Snowflake_ was his nickname for her, and _Jack Frost_ was her name for him. Maybe one day he would come to terms with never hearing it again.

He let out a deep sigh and closed his eyes, and when the face of a certain platinum blonde swam into his thoughts, for the first time in what felt like forever, he felt something resembling peace.


	11. That Damn Day Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel obliged to put a trigger warning here for depression and suicidal thoughts. If you feel you need to, please skip this chapter. If you don't want to, but would rather avoid the topic, stop reading after Elsa's POV.

 

Aster was a bit of a perfectionist when it came to tattooing, which is why he always set aside six hours for a four hour job. Jack reasoned that perfectionists were best for tattoos, because you know you'll always get excellent results. He would settle for nothing less than perfection for the snowflakes, now six of them, adorning his neck. He would, however, settle for no more conversations like he had with the wise tattooist.

_"So, what's her name, bud?"_ he had evenly asked, engrossed in the lighter blue shading of the larger snowflake.

_"What do you mean?"_

_"Last two times, you were depressing as fuck, mate. I'd hafta slide over to my stereo and stick The Cure on to cheer me up. Today, you've got this kind o' serenity about ya, even though you still radiate 'get the fuck away from me'. So it's definitely a chick."_

Jack knew it would happen. The all-knowing, all-seeing…

_…fucking omnipotent…_

…eyes of Aster had noticed the subtle differences, and called him out on them.

_"Her name is Elsa…and I'm pretty sure she doesn't see me in_ that  _way."_

_"Well she must tolerate ya at least."_

_"You tolerate me."_

_"Mate, for eighty bucks an hour, I've got no bloody choice."_

_"Charming."_

Six o'clock was approaching by the time Aster had wiped over the new tattoo with exceptionally cold distilled water – which sent pleasurable shivers down Jack's spine – covered it in special cream and taped saran wrap over it. Satisfied with the result, Jack paid the gruff Australian and left, but not without receiving a farewell remark.

"Kinda obvious you have a thing for her by the way you mentioned her name. My advice? You might wanna let her in, before she loses interest, mate."

"Maybe…"

He had been driving for about ten minutes with the thoughts banging around in his head that he still wasn't sure if Elsa was attracted to him or not. Sure, she had badgered him about Monday, but it might just be a case of her disliking being indebted to someone. If that was the case, then technically she owed Jack three 'repayments', but as far as he was concerned he was just helping out.

And yet, had it been anyone else, except maybe her sister, Jack would have just walked on by and left them to their fate. It wasn't that he was callous – okay, maybe he was – but something about that girl had set off a hairline fracture in the icy walls that protected his heart, and that fracture was growing.

He was terrified that if the dam broke and he did open up to her, and she saw him as nothing more than a debt to be repaid, he would be the one worse off. Could he trust her? Could he trust _himself?_

He didn't know.

The problem was, he had been losing the will to hide bit by bit every time he saw her, and he wasn't sure if he could stop it.

Or even if he  _wanted_  to.

That terrified him the most.

-

Feeling the need to do something, Elsa had left the rest of the gang at the house to drop in on Fractal Fashion's base of operations. All her college work was ready for the week anyway, and she had tidied her room to the point that it was almost a show-room, so she didn't have much else to do by the time that five thirty had swung around.

She had just left the elevator in a far better mood than the last time, when she caught the shape of a rather large man blurred behind the frosted glass doors to Kai's office. Forgetting that she wasn't CEO yet, Elsa was about to open the door and disturb the meeting when a rather loud and pointed clearing of the secretary's throat indicated that she should rethink the idea.

Elsa shot her a look, which the secretary returned with  _"I don't make the rules, honey."_

Defeated, she sat down on the chairs and picked up one of the new magazines, pretending to read. It offered no mental interest, though. Mostly crazy stories about someone's dog who could predict the future, a man with three breasts and – Elsa's particular favourite – a forty year old woman's haunted lingerie. Apparently her sexy red polka dot platform bra was the reincarnation of an Irish American from the 1940's.

_Jeez, where do they find these people?_

Her incredulous thought was jarred when the frosted door opened and a mountain of a man stepped out, still talking to Kai. He was dressed in a red shirt with a black tie, wore a massive fake-fur overcoat and held a Russian winter hat in his right hand. His hair was pure white and receded past the top of his head, and his beard was so large and bushy that Elsa was sure it could comfortably nest birds inside.

"Ah, Elsa! I didn't expect to see you today!" Kai smiled. Obviously the stranger had an uplifting effect on him.

"Yeah, I got bored at home. Wanted to see if you needed any help." She shrugged, rising to her feet.

"Very kind of you, Elsa. Please, let me introduce an old friend of mine, and hopefully an ally. This is Nicholas St. North."

Elsa's brow furrowed at the name, it sounded so familiar. Nicholas offered a wide, cheery smile and held out a huge hand, which dwarfed hers by a sizeable margin. In fact, Elsa was just about six foot where Nicholas seemed to be approaching seven, so it came as no surprise.

"Ah! So this is the heir to Fractal Fashion! You never told me she was such a beautiful lady!" he boomed, shaking her hand so hard she thought she would lose it.

"Thank you for the compliment, Mr St. North. It's nice to make your acquaintance." she smiled. Something about the man was indeed uplifting, as despite his size blocking out most of the lights, the room seemed to brighten in his presence.

"Likewise! Now if you'll excuse me, I have a godson to worry about. He is out of town on personal business, and I do worry about him in that car of his." he said, striding purposefully toward the elevators.

"Elsa, if you'll accompany me inside?" Kai asked in a fatherly voice. Elsa turned to follow her uncle, her mind furiously working to connect the dots.

_Nicholas St. North. Godson. Car. That's it! I remember!_

She whirled around, the epiphany happening too late. Nicholas had already entered the elevator and was on his way down to the first floor before she could call him back. She whispered a soft curse to herself at being too slow to recognise the visitor, memorable as he was. Staring at the closed doors for a few seconds, it wasn't until Kai's voice stirred her from her thought that she remembered the reason she was visiting.

"Elsa? Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," she mused, disappointment in her voice, "I just wanted to ask Mr St. North a question, that's all."

"I'm sure it can wait." Kai shrugged dismissively, which set off a flicker of annoyance in Elsa's chest as she walked into his office and sat with one leg over the other in the chair opposite his desk.

"What can I do for you?" he asked in a fatherly tone, leaning back into his high-backed leather chair.

"I'm restless. My parents' company is now in Black Advertising's sights, and I don't like it. I know I'm not due to take over for a year, but still…I want to do  _something._ " she answered, the words coming out in a frustrated staccato rhythm.

Kai merely exhaled through his nose as he smiled warmly, noticing the unsettled wringing of her hands. He pushed on the arms of his executive chair to help himself stand, and Elsa felt compelled to do the same. Passing by his desk, he held Elsa's upper arms in a comforting manner, his eyes twinkling with conviction and sincerity.

"I know, Elsa. I know. I have a  _shark watcher_  keeping an eye on our shares, and he will alert us the second Black makes a move. Then I will take steps to ensure that is the  _only_ move he makes. Don't worry, I won't let Fractal Fashion fall."

Elsa felt heartened at his words. Kai had been the steward of Fractal Fashion since her parents' death, and he had done an admirable job. In fact, the company had gone from strength to strength, cleverly taking advantage of changing trends and sometimes setting trends of their own. It was how they became the country's premier clothing industry – and why they were now on Black's list.

Still, the urge to feel useful still burned in her chest as she nodded in thanks.

"If you still want to do something, might I suggest increasing our exposure? More sales means more ammunition and I know you've been itching to see our new  _Wynter_  clothing line reach the stores. This might be an ideal opportunity to do just that."

It was an idea, and a good one. In the wake of several ice-themed movies, the public had been chomping at the bit for winter-themed clothing. Blue, white and silver were the desired colours this trend, and as always Fractal Fashion surfed ahead of the curve.

_Increase exposure, huh? I think I'll get Anna to help me; she's always full of ideas._

"Thanks, Kai. I'll see what I can come up with." she said brightly. Kai squeezed her arm in support but his warm smile fell into a frown, and he looked into Elsa's eyes with an almost concerned vibe.

"May I offer you some advice, Elsa?" he spoke softly. Elsa matched his frown, nodding.

"Make sure that being a CEO is what you  _want_  to do, and not what you feel  _obligated_  to do."

Elsa bit her lip, wondering what he meant. Kai saw the look in her eyes and was about to elaborate when his internal telephone screeched at his ears, making them both wince.

"I really must change the ring-tone to something more pleasant than 'strangled cat'…" he muttered darkly, reaching over to answer the phone and stop the ear-splitting cacophony.

Elsa took the opportunity to leave with Kai's words weighing heavily on her shoulders, and before she knew it she was in the elevator on its descent to the first floor. Her mind raced with memories and thoughts, opinions and ideas, mingling together in one huge maelstrom that threatened to explode into a full-blown hurricane.

She was sure that taking over was what she wanted to do. She told her father as much. When she told him  _"Dad, I want to learn how to be a CEO"_ his face lit up like a Christmas tree. It was intoxicating, his expression being one of joy as opposed to absent-mindedness filled her with the praise she sorely craved.

She told herself she was doing it for the right reasons, even when she locked herself in her room after the tragic accident, only coming out when Anna was asleep. Sneaking out to take advantage of, in her mind, the last opportunities to be a teenager. Getting her first taste of alcohol and wanting  _more._ Experimenting with drugs. Losing her virginity to a guy she couldn't even remember the day after. Completely lost in grief and anger, blinkered to the reality that her behaviour was hurting her sister the most.

Anna's face when she staggered through the door on one particular night of drowning her sorrows was the kick-up-the-ass she needed.

As the years went by and she grew up, she started to get used to the idea of taking over the family business. She reasoned her prior behaviour to being unable to grieve properly, and began to study more towards the long-term goal of being CEO. It was how she came to be at Arendelle College when she turned eighteen.

And yet, Kai's words sparked a feeling of doubt inside her.

Aching with the thoughts trampling over and over in her mind, Elsa decided that she would tackle the ideas for exposure tomorrow. Tonight, she needed to wind down and rest, think of something else. It was approaching six-thirty as she exited the elevator, and as her hand dove into her handbag for the Cadillac keys, they brushed against the smooth plastic surface of her smartphone. Fishing it out, she pressed the standby button and the screen flickered to life, with the same message from when Rapunzel appropriated the phone waiting to be sent.

_"Morning, how are you?"_

Elsa smiled, tapped the backspace button several times before typing out a new message and sending it on its way, hoping for a swift reply.

_"How are you? Elsa x"_

Three simple words that would change everything.

-

Jack didn't know how it happened; only that it did.

Maybe it was the Christmas lights shining brightly in the bitter night air, unchanged from previous years because Burgess City Hall was too lazy to get with the times.

Maybe it was the huge inflatable Father Christmas sat on the corner, his jolly features gazing vacantly into nothing.

Maybe it was the right turn that he made past the inflatable effigy as he came face-to-face with the street where it all happened, at the same time as Amy Lee's haunting voice began to sing _Hello_  over the car speakers.

_Playground school bell rings again,_   
_Rain clouds come to play again._   
_Has no-one told you she's not breathing?_   
_Hello, I'm your mind giving you someone to talk to…_   
_Hello._

All Jack knew was that something inside him had just  _snapped._ His mind had completely shut off, his chest became numb, and his arms and legs were responding to silent commands from an empty void somewhere in his body, and had taken him to a disused quarry two miles out of town.

The Impala's headlights were the only things illuminating the way ahead as the stationary car hummed idly, pure white snow glittering back in answer to the blinding light amidst a sea of blackest night. Jack knew this place well from when he and his sister would battle each other for claims to dessert with vicious snowball fights.

_If I smile and don't believe,_   
_Soon I know I'll wake from this dream._   
_Don't try to fix me, I'm not broken._   
_Hello, I'm the lie living for you so you can hide._   
_Don't cry._

Surely he would feel something, what with his car currently pointed three hundred feet away from a straight drop into a rocky, sharp abyss? Surely a part of him would be screaming to take his foot away from the accelerator or remove his hand from the gear stick? Truth be told, there was – it was just impotent and powerless. The tide of memories crashing down upon Jack's mind drowned out all other voices but the one he should  _not_  be listening to.

Memories of snowball fights outside the house, ice skating on the frozen lake not far from Jack's high school. Memories of his mother teaching him how to cook, and instilling wise words into his heart. Cradling their still, broken forms in the snow, and clutching a small hand in a cramped ambulance as a beeping turned into a solid flatline.

All the while, a voice telling him to put the car into drive, to shove the pedal down to the floor and feel the surge of speed as it would catapult him to oblivion, where he could be with them once again.

_Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping…  
Hello, I'm still here, all that's left of yesterday…_

His foot automatically floored the accelerator and the car roared into enraged life, howling its last defiant words to the world before it, and its master would disappear into the blackest night, never to be seen again.

_Do it. Everyone will be better off without you, and you get to be with those you love once more. Just close your eyes and pull the stick back into D._

His breathing was calm and steady, his body numb and his heart was cracking. Maybe the voice was right, the words of truth coming from the darkest recesses of the hole he was trapped in. Obediently shutting his eyes, he whispered three words to the world as he tensed his right arm.

"I'm coming, snowflake."

Then a sound came that he was not expecting, a song that jerked him so far out of his suicidal reverie that all memories, voices and sounds fell silent – except the part of him that was screaming to stop. His heart began to thump rapidly, his hands began to shake as his entire body seemed to reactivate, and the curious sensation of disorientation crashed down upon him like a waterfall as his foot involuntarily left the pedal.

He did not remember coming to the quarry, in fact the last thing he could remember was seeing the ugly blow-up Santa Claus, and remarking that someone must have bought it from an adult shop.

_Immigrant Song_  blasted from the speakers of his smartphone, as a message flashed upon the screen.

_New Message (1): From – Elsa_

Jack tapped the  _Open_  icon and the message appeared, surrounded by a yellow speech bubble.

_"How are you? Elsa x"_

"Fucking hell…" he whispered out loud, and wiped a hand across his face in shock as the realisation dropped down on his head like a grand piano in a  _Tom and Jerry_  cartoon. Those three words, that innocuous, sincere question just stopping him from making a  _very_  big mistake.

His heart began to slow down and his fingers became still, as the dark voice disappeared almost entirely. Elsa's face swam into his mind, smiling sweetly as he was struck with the feeling that, beyond his surrogate family, someone actually  _cared_ enough to ask. Tapping the letters – and the backspace button – a few times and hitting the reply button, he sent a message on its way to Arendelle City and the expectant platinum blonde waiting within.

_"Five by five. You? – Jack"_

The reply to his reply came back almost immediately. Elsa was obviously a fast typist, or some kind of beautiful technopath.

_"Doing good. Looking forward to Monday. See you in college! Elsa x"_

Jack tossed the phone back onto the passenger seat and covered his face in his hands. She had no idea how important that message had been.

Cursing himself, he slammed the stick into reverse and did a three-point turn, pointing the car toward back towards Burgess, and the highway home.

With a stop at the pharmacy on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics are from Hello by Evanescence, from the album Fallen


	12. Sunday, Boring Sunday

Today is Sunday, and it was _boring_. At least, in Anna’s mind.

Two minutes past one scraped by like an unwilling child dragged to school, and Rapunzel and Eugene had left ninety minutes ago to watch a movie. Eugene was desperate to see _Guardians of the Galaxy_ for the third time _– “But I relate so much to Star Lord!” –_ whereas Rapunzel wanted to watch _The Fault in Our Stars_. Both showings were on at the same time, and it was about to turn into a full blown argument when Eugene finally conceded defeat. He couldn’t do much else when Rapunzel started caressing her favourite frying pan with an odd look upon her bright young features.

“Dude. Give it up. I’m not taking you to hospital because you fought a frying pan and _lost_.” Anna had teased, while Rapunzel nodded knowingly. Eugene had pretty much groaned from then up until he was dragged out of the door.

With Elsa’s help, her Business major work ready for the week was complete, and in almost typical Anna fashion she had left the work for her minor in _Movie Studies_ until the last day. Mr Ebert had set them a task to write the beginning of an original screenplay for a movie, and the best one would be submitted to a production company of their choice. The problem was that originality was a premium in contemporary movies, with most releases being sequels. Sequels of sequels. Spinoffs of sequels.

Tapping a finger against her cheek as she rested her chin on her hand, she stared at an empty _Word_ document, hoping for an epiphany to strike.

“Ragtag bunch of misfits band together to save the galaxy?” she mused out loud.

_Been done. Serenity and Guardians of the Galaxy._

“Ooookay. Erm, a group of heroes, all with different backgrounds unite to face an alien threat.”

_The Avengers._

“Fuck. Erm…giant aliens rise up-”

_Pacific Rim. Seriously, you should have done this_ ages _ago. You suck._

In a bout of frustration, she hammered the keyboard, grunting out each word as it appeared on the screen.

“My. Name. Is. Anna. Snowfield. And. I. Have. No. Fucking. Clue. What. To. Type.”

She exhaled in exasperation, lacing her fingers through her unbraided hair behind her head and closing her eyes, cursed her procrastination.

“Insightful. I like it. Concision always was the cardinal virtue of narration.”

Elsa’s voice from behind made Anna damn near fall off the stool in surprise, and resting a hand upon her thundering heart she muttered a few choice words about her sister’s ninja skills. Elsa was leaning over her shoulder, smirking as she read the words on the screen.

“Jeez! A little warning next time? You know I hate _Stealth Hi/Bye_ stuff.” she hissed, glowering at her sister’s cheek.

“I know, and speak English, not _TvTropese._ ” Elsa sniggered, straightening up.

“What are you still doing here, anyway? Your college work is done; you’ve got a free day. You should be out terrorising trainee baristas or something, you know, _fun_ stuff.”

“Hah! Nah, I’m doing something for the company.” Elsa shrugged casually as she set up another pod inside the coffee dispenser. Pressing the button, it whirred and gurgled obediently as she pulled a small notepad from the pocket of the grey cardigan she wore. Tapping the notepad with a pencil she fished out from the same pocket, her eyes took on a thoughtful, cogs-turning look.

Anna had seen that look before, a long time ago.

“So, what quest has the fair Elsa Snowfield undertaken for the good of her future kingdom?” she asked, putting on a mock English accent.

“Huh? Oh, Kai suggested I think of something to increase exposure, what with the company being in Black Advertising’s sights.”

“That’s easy. Host a party.” Anna declared, like it was the simplest thing in the world.

“A party?” Elsa frowned, wondering why she didn’t come up with that.

“Yeah. Hire one of the event halls in the city. Invite all the wealthy people, friends and family. People from other companies. Hell, invite the college students.”

Elsa thought about it, and the more she did, the more it made sense. A lavish, opulent party, showcasing the very latest in the _Wynter_ clothing line. Music, food, lots and lots of chocolate. People would be talking about it for months.

“A party.” Elsa confirmed, smiling to herself that _it just might work._ “That’s good work, Anna! You sure you don’t wanna be CEO?” she joked, offering her sister the notepad.

“And turn out like Dad?” Anna scoffed, turning back to her laptop, “No thanks.”

The sound of the notepad hitting the floor echoed around the suddenly silent kitchen, and starkly aware that something wasn’t right, Anna turned once more towards Elsa and felt her heart twinge.

The elder sister was no longer tall and confident but slightly hunched and fragile. Her hand still remained outstretched in the offering of an invisible notepad, but her face was where the story was. Cerulean eyes glistened with burgeoning tears, and her mouth opened and closed a few times in preparation for words that would never come. She wore an expression middling between slapped in the face and punched in the gut.

_Yikes. I should be a sniper ‘cause I always hit the mark._

Sighing deeply, Anna took Elsa’s shaking hands and rubbed circles into her knuckles, trying to stir her sister’s attention from the out-of-the-blue remark.

“I’m sorry, ‘sis. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that.” Anna soothed apologetically.

Elsa wasn’t going to lie, it hurt. Even though their parents had been dead and gone for five years, obviously they still were not over some aspects of their childhood. Scars that were taking a long time to heal.

Memories jostled for first place in the elder sister’s mind; trotting into Daddy’s office with a brand new report card, A+ grades adorning nearly all subjects. Running back out in sobs with a scrunched up card, having only received an absent-minded _“That’s nice dear, but Daddy has a lot of work to do”._

The arguments that would occur between mother and father about his marriage to the company.

Anna would always ask _“Why do you do it? Why do you set yourself up to be hurt?”_

Elsa’s answer was always the same in her mind. She just wanted her father’s appreciation, for him to say _“Well done Elsa! I’m proud of you_ ” just for _once_.

It was why Anna only told her mother about anything good that happened. Elsa would still cling firmly onto the hope that somewhere, inside the masquerading CEO, was the father they always needed.

“I’m not going to be like him…” Elsa whispered, her eyes fixed on her hands. The once confident and independent Elsa Snowfield, now reduced to a small, sad little girl by an abrupt off-the-cuff remark and the memories that came with it.

“What’s wrong, Elsa?” Anna asked, moving her head downwards so Elsa _had_ to look into her eyes. Her sister looked almost plaintive, her brilliant blue eyes shimmering wet. It was obvious that there was something she wanted to say, but she didn’t know how to say it…or if she should.

Repeating Kai’s advice aloud might make it true.

She already felt like a failure to her father’s company, and his memory.

“Nothing, Anna. It just…brought back some things I’d rather forget.” Elsa told her in a half-truth. She was convinced it was the right thing to do. It _had_ to be.

_Right?_

A single tear slid down from Elsa’s left eye, which she promptly wiped off with her sleeve. She caught her sister’s expression of _‘are you sure?’,_ and swiftly tried to push aside the memories and the doubt. She was pretty sure she knew what Anna would say if she relayed Kai’s words to her, and she wasn’t ready for it.

Not yet.

“I’ll be fine, ‘sis. Don’t worry. I’m okay.” she managed a small smile. Half-fake, half-sincere. Anna narrowed her eyes, when a whirring of her smartphone next to the laptop startled them both. Wrapped up in the moment, it sounded less like a vibration and more like an earthquake, judging by the momentary flash of panic in their hearts. Anna picked it up and opened the message, and couldn’t help but beam.

“Kristoff wants to take me out for a meal in a couple of hours!” she bounced a little, holding back the urge to squeal. Elsa’s mouth curled up into a smile as well. Something about Anna’s glee was incredibly infectious, and she was thankful for the change in mood. At least it took her mind off things.

Anna had been dating Kristoff since she was sixteen. It was a classic romance straight out of one of those rom-com movies – Kristoff and Anna shared the same high school classes, cultivating a friendship that blossomed into a teenage romance. Behind the gruff, giant frame was a kind, loving, respectful soul that fell in love with Anna almost as soon as he saw her. Other boys would either be too fast or ignorant to Anna’s boundaries, and that was their biggest mistake. Many a time had one of them been reduced to tears by a withering salvo of insults and cutting remarks from the elder sister.

Someone had joked _“If you want to date Anna, you’ve got to get past the Ice Queen first”_ , and to Elsa’s chagrin, the name stuck.

Kristoff, however, tried a different tack. He took Elsa aside one day and asked for her permission to date Anna. It was in that moment that Elsa knew Kristoff would never hurt her little sister, would always respect and cherish her and more importantly, love her, because he cared enough to ask. So she agreed.

She couldn’t help but feel jealous, though.

And they have been going strong ever since. Even when Kristoff declined college in favour of hands-on work, they were still together as much as possible.

“Good, then you’ve got a couple of hours to do your screenplay. Hopefully you’ll do better than what you have right now!” Elsa teased. Anna waved a dismissive hand.

“Oh, I’ve got an idea of what to write. And,” she said, picking up the notepad from the floor and stealing Elsa’s pencil, “I’m going to come up with ideas for this party.”

“What? No! That’s my job!” Elsa protested, trying to reach for the notepad which Anna was holding away.

“Nope. It’s not your job for another year. Elsa, all you do is college work, _work_ work, and sleep. Me? I can balance things. College work, Kristoff, and fun.” she said in a reproachful tone. Elsa raised her eyebrows and gestured with her eyes to Anna’s screen.

“Yes,” she sighed exasperatedly, “I sometimes procrastinate. But at least I _can_. Besides, I told you I know what I’m going to write. Mama always said: _write what you know._ So I pretty much have the entire movie in my head right now.”

There was no point arguing, and Elsa knew it. Anna had that _look_. The same look she had when she went tearing after Jack in the cafeteria. She often wondered which of them was older, and which was _wiser_.

“Right. I’m going to take my laptop and go hang out in ‘Bucks, do my screenplay while I wait for Kris to finish his shift. You’re going to do things that _don’t_ involve the company.” Anna declared while she tapped the number for the local taxi cab company into her phone and raised it to her ear.

“Like what?” Elsa raised her hands, mildly incredulous.

“I don’t know… _Yeah, can I get a cab, please_...play _Disney Infinity_ or something. Text Jack… _Snowfield House_ , _oh you remember? Ten minutes_ …just do something other than work… _can you make it twenty? I need to get ready. Great! Thank you!”_

_-_

Twenty minutes later, Anna was on her way to the door wearing a dark blue skirt, a white blouse under a black vest and a pink cardigan, clutching her laptop and Elsa’s notepad under her arm. Elsa was sat at the breakfast bar sipping her exceptionally cold coffee, and she chuckled when, before Anna slipped out of the door, she pointed two fingers to her eyes and then pointed them at Elsa’s.

Once the sound of the cab’s engine faded away, Elsa found herself alone in a silent house. She racked her brain for what to do.

_Design a new clothing line? Nope, work related._  
Work out tactics to fight the takeover? Kai’s already on that.  
  
Maybe Anna was right. Maybe Elsa’s life so far existed for one thing: preparing for becoming CEO.

Elsa exhaled deeply as she leant back on the high chair and her eyes wandered over to the ridiculously large flat-screen television in the living room, and the Playstation 4 that sat proudly  just to the side, with the activity panel connected to it.

“Meh, why not,” she shrugged, wandering over to the sofa in front of the television, “not like I have anything better to do.”

Switching on the console which hummed contentedly while simultaneously switching on the screen, she sat back down and fished out her phone from the other cardigan pocket to fire off a text.

_“Hey. What are you up to? Elsa x”_

A reply came back almost immediately, which was a given because so far, Jack only replied with one or two words.

_“Cooking. You? -  Jack”_

“A cook, huh? You _are_ a mystery.” Elsa smiled, tapping a reply.

“ _About to learn how to play Disney Infinity. Never played it before. Elsa x”_

_“1.0 or 2.0? – Jack”_

_“2.0 I think. I can see Marvel stuff. No idea what to do. Elsa x”_

_“Take one of the little statues and put it on the white pad. Then the thing that looks like a clear plastic building. Pick Iron Man. Always Iron Man. – Jack”_

Elsa raised her eyebrows. This was almost a full-blown conversation. Jack might pop a blood vessel. Tapping the button to get her through the menus and into the game world, she picked the miniature Iron Man from beside the Playstation and placed it on one of the two circles, and the clear plastic building behind him. A swirling golden mass appeared on screen, heralding Iron Man’s arrival.

Turning back to the sofa, she tapped out a quick reply.

_“Wow, that was almost an essay from you. What are you cooking? Elsa x”_

Elsa awaited the rebuttal, which didn’t come for ten minutes, or an eternity. For her, it was both. Ten almost agonizing minutes where, for a time, she wondered if her teasing had pissed him off. Finally, the vibrating in her hand told her that her worries would be either exacerbated, or assuaged.

_“Keep it up, I’ll write a god damn thesis. I’m cooking lasagne. – Jack”_

“Oh God, Italian food. Don’t tell me that, I fucking _love_ Italian food!” Elsa gasped, tapping out another reply. He seemed to actually be opening up thanks to the miracle of texting. The wonders of pseudo-anonymity at its best.

_“Sounds tasty! Enjoy! Elsa x”_

Jack’s answer came back within seconds, and Elsa couldn’t lie, it confused the hell out of her.

_“I’m not eating it. – Jack”_

Elsa frowned. Why would he cook a lasagne but _not_ eat it? Hell, why cook Italian food and _not_ eat it? To her stomach, it was nothing short of a heinous crime, punishable by death.

_“:o Why not?! Elsa x”_

“You better have a good reply, Mr Overland.” Elsa hissed with mock sternness. Her stomach was beginning to growl for food and he was to blame.

_“I cook and freeze. Cooking helps me. – Jack”_

“Okay. Wasn’t expecting that.” She cocked her head to the side. Cooking and then freezing food she could get behind, but at that moment, how it could help escaped her.

_“Helps you how? Elsa x”_

Elsa gritted her teeth slightly, her chest and heart willing something to happen. Willing him to open up a bit more. Just a bit more.

_“Nothing. Forget I said anything. Enjoy your game. – Jack”_

“Fuck. Dammit, Jack. So close.” she sighed disappointedly, tapping out another text and firing it off.

_“Okay :( Looking forward to tomorrow. Elsa x”_

She was pretty sure it would be the last one of the day. He seemed so highly strung, if someone was to push hard enough he would shrink and hide. Circle the wagons, as it were. Shut the world out.

Anna had bluntly stated he was holding onto a lot of pain, but what? Elsa knew all too well the cost of concealing and not feeling. Maybe one day, she would find out what he was trying to conceal.

Elsa sighed once more, slipped the phone back into her cardigan and absent-mindedly pressed the buttons on the controller and tried to make Iron Man move in a specific direction, becoming frustrated when he disobediently continued his lustful liaison with a brick wall. She almost didn’t notice the vibration in the pocket as she nearly threw the controller at the screen in anger, and upon fishing her phone out and seeing a new text, she couldn’t stop a smile from creeping over her delicate features.

_“Me too.  – Jack”_

_-_

No sooner had Anna sat down in her favourite chair, right by the window in Starbucks had she flicked open her laptop and begun to type.

_A Kingdom of Isolation – Anna Snowfield_

She laced her fingers together and leaned her face against them, gazing at the newly arrived title, while she sorted thoughts in her head. She wasn’t lying when she told Elsa that she had the entire movie planned in her head, but it was one thing to _picture_ the screenplay, and a whole other ball game when it came to actually _writing_ it out.

She felt a gentle hand on her left shoulder at the same time as a steaming mug of Caramel Latte Macchiato was placed in front of her, and a gentle kiss on her cheek signalled the appearance of her beloved boyfriend Kristoff. Smiling widely, she closed her eyes and rested a hand upon his, leaning into his kiss. It felt like fiery warmth, spreading comfort and safety from the contact through the rest of her body.

“Thought you could use one of these.” he rumbled, his deep warm voice like music to her ears.

“Kristoff, you are a god among men.” she sighed.

“Pfft. I wouldn’t say that…” he scoffed, taking the seat opposite her, “So, what’re you writing?”

“A screenplay for my minor in _Movie Studies._ Mr Ebert says whoever writes the best one gets to send it to a production company of their choice. Mine’s totally going to Disney.”

“That sounds great! What’s it about?” he grinned, leaning closer. Anna took a sip of her drink and waved her arms about, trying to articulate via hand gestures the idea in her mind. Kristoff just chuckled. Attempting to speak with a mouth full of coffee was stereotypical Anna.

“It’s about two sisters, one has powers but she can’t control them, so she shuts herself off from the world, including her little sister, to keep them safe. The movie is the point of view of the younger girl.”

“Sounds good. Writing what you know, huh?” he nodded, the similarities were too easy to miss.

“Yeah, that’s what Mama said. Anyway, where are we going later?”

“Oaken’s Wandering Grill. Booked a table, right by the window.” he said casually, but the butterflies in his stomach and excitement in his chest were hard to keep hidden. Especially when those light blue eyes stared into his with complete and utter astonishment.

“ _Oaken’s?!_ But, there’s, like, a three month waiting list! And it’s so expensive!” she gushed, trying to pick her jaw up from the table.

“Meh, I saved up. Plus, it’s a special occasion.” he shrugged, though her glee was definitely infecting his widening smile. Anna nearly knocked her coffee over her laptop in her rush to wrap him in a warm, tight embrace.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod Kristoff! You are so amazing!” she squealed into his ear.

Kristoff’s eyes wandered around the coffee house, where some of the staff and a few of the customers had looked over in surprise, and a couple even went “aww!”. One middle-aged lady lightly rapped her husband’s shoulder, muttering something along the lines of _‘so why don’t you do anything like that for_ me?’

Anna suddenly went rigid and pulled back, staring into Kristoff’s eyes as a light bulb – or even a floodlight – pinged above her head.

“Itotallyknowwhattowritenow!” she gasped, and with a speed born of a brilliant idea she sat back down and furiously tapped away on her laptop.

Kristoff’s smile did not waver, though his hands did wander down to the pocket of his baggy trousers to fondle the jewellery box within.

_That’s my girl. The one I want to spend the rest of my life with._


	13. That Damn Date

_"Me too. – Jack"_

He had typed and sent the message before he even thought about it. To be fair, he was being honest. He was looking forward to the meeting, in a sense. He was just convinced  _that_  was all it was.

The repayment of a debt, and nothing more.

In his mind, there was nothing more to talk about. He wasn't going to stand her up, given that in two texts she had specifically stated she was looking forward to today. He may be a cold, aloof asshole but he still knew right from wrong, and avoiding a meeting such as this was definitely a candidate for the 'wrong' box.

And once the meeting was over, he could get back to living in solitude and being safe from the world. Maybe fix his icy heart. She would go back to doing whatever she was doing, and he would just be content to shut everyone out, and experience the occasional mild anxiety attack.

Yet his mind went back to the day someone slashed her tyres and how, without hesitation, he stepped up to help her out and would do it again. Something about her, perhaps. Something about the light, simmering butterflies in his stomach when her delicate face, her warm smile would pop into his mind's eye without so much as a warning or apology.

Something about how the two sisters swapped places in Mental Health so Elsa could sit next to Jack – as though it was fucking high school – and the calming feeling it brought. Mr Graham had asked Jack a couple of questions, and while he responded in his usual clipped, terse manner, he actually _responded_ rather than stormed out.

The strangest feeling of being  _okay_  with it.

Maybe it was just a meeting. Maybe, after this, everything would go back to the way it was. If that was the case, it would be the death of Jack the Thawing, and the return of Jack the Cold.

And seeing that smile once more would mean Jack the Thawing died a glorious death, worthy of a Klingon.

So, at three-fifteen on Monday afternoon, a full forty-five minutes before the arranged time, Jack found himself nestled in the far corner of  _The Orient Espresso_ , nursing a cold Americano and ignoring flirtatious looks from the waitress behind the counter. She was cute, sure, with her red hair in a bob and wearing something resembling a French maid's outfit – though  _far_  less revealing, to Jack's relief – but the constant smiles and winks annoyed him more than anything else.

That was probably the reason he was burying himself in his already completed college work, and primarily focused on drawing a new type of snowflake. It was more angular and defined than the ones on his neck or his pendant, and quite a bit more complicated to draw. Featuring a straight-edged, six petalled flower in the centre, with various isosceles and scalene triangles spreading out from fixed points at the tip of each 'petal' to constitute the arms, tipped by a diamond right at the end, it was the hardest one he had ever done.

Why? Because it had to be  _perfect._  Symmetrically, aesthetically infallible.

He was just finishing the last of the little arms between the larger, triangular ones when a voice reached his ears from somewhere to the side of him. He hoped that it wasn't the waitress. Again.

"Excuse me, is this seat taken?"

"Reserved." he answered tersely, not even looking up.

"Oh? For whom?"

"Someone important."

"Aww, that's so sweet of you." He could practically feel the smile in the owner's voice. He looked up, readying a snappy comment about not being able to understand the word 'reserved', then found the comment disappear inside his mind, never to be seen again.

Elsa was standing by the side of him, greeting him with one of her famous, butterfly inducing smiles. She was wearing one inch heeled black boots, black yoga pants with a breezy blue cotton sweater under a light grey pea-coat.

"You're early…" was all he could manage. He didn't miss the flash of light pink in her cheeks as she took the seat 'reserved' for her.

"Yeah, well…I couldn't wait. My afternoon Business lecture was about something I already know so…yeah." she said in a half-truth. It was true that the lecture was familiar to her, but she had plenty other things that she could have done.

"Fair enough. What are you having?" he asked, regarding her in a manner that could loosely be defined as suspicious, but not quite. Studying her.

"Mocha, and I'm paying, remember? I owe you for saving me. I mean…stopping me from falling."

Jack let out a quiet snort, and the smallest of Harrison Ford smiles crept up on his lips. He gestured to the waitress in an indifferent manner, and she promptly bolted upright and hurried over, notepad and pencil in hand. Jack requested another Americano while Elsa chose her mocha, and she felt the flash of irritation when the waitress gave Jack a little wink before she left. Jack merely rolled his eyes and scratched the side of his head in mild exasperation.

"I wish she wouldn't do that. Pretty sure I made it clear she isn't my type." he grumbled.

"Oh, and what is your type, Mr Overland?" Elsa teased, but couldn't deny the piquing of her interest.

"Not her, for a start." he said dryly, with a dash of disdain.

_Hmm. Strike three for her, maybe I'm the next batter up?_

While the waitress busied herself with the order, Elsa took the time to study the tiny, independent coffee house in its entirety. Designed to resemble a famous continental train, the two windows next to the door were framed in rich, velvety red curtains, with a mahogany table under each one and old-fashioned lamps perched on each table.

Those same tables were also dotted untidily around the rest of the coffee house, all sporting similar lamps in the middle, surrounded by slightly flimsy looking mahogany chairs. Elsa's eyes traced up the walls, and amusement bounced in her chest when the character of the shop shone through. The wallpaper was a darker shade of red than the curtains, with pictures or paintings of the famous fictional detective Hercule Poirot dotted here and there, and promotional pictures of the _real_  Orient Express filling up other spaces. In a twisted sense of humour, though, the owner had also put up several pictures of _Murder on the Orient Express._

If she had to be honest, it looked a little busy. Hell of a place to pick for a first date. She couldn't deny the personal, human touch to it though, there was no regimental, head-office dictated decoration to it. Customers could stay as long as they pleased, and not feel rushed to finish their drinks by loud conversation and fast music.

"What made you pick this place, Jack?" Elsa asked, her eyes now tracing over the selection of cakes available on the counter.

"I live nearby. Shorter walk." he shrugged non-committally.

The waitress returned with their coffees, both in ridiculously large mugs. Shooting Elsa a glare as she placed the mug slightly roughly in front of her – Elsa returning the glare with a raised eyebrow – she tried to brush against Jack with her arm as she, much more gently, placed his mug in front of him. Jack mercilessly vetoed the motion by becoming as stiff as a board, darting his hands into his pockets and minimising any possible physical contact. Elsa couldn't deny it; his reaction sent a rush of pride through her heart.

_Hah. Seems I'm the only one that gets to touch him. In your face, nameless waitress!_

"So," Elsa asked, removing her pea coat and twisting to drape it over the back of her chair, "how was your weekend?"

_Yay for small-talk. Baby steps._

Jack took a moment to answer, working out the shortest possible response without leaving in any details. Elsa tried a sip of her mocha, and let slip a little moan when she found out how delicious it really was. Jack didn't know whether it was the moan or her expression of pleasure, but he felt his ears begin to get really,  _really_ warm.

"Um, it was…eye-opening. Yours? Did  _Disney Infinity_  agree with you?"

"Hah! Yeah, after a few hours. I enjoyed it, actually, when I finally stopped Iron Man from making out with a brick wall." she said, self-deprecating sarcasm floating in her voice.

"Heh. Never pegged you for a gamer." he said in the lightest of teases, the half-smile appearing once again.

"Oh really? You know, neither did I. Anna had banned me from trying to sort out a problem with the company, so she made me try it out." she shrugged.

"The problem being Black Advertising, I guess?" Jack said in a surprising moment of laser-guided deduction. He narrowed his eyes slightly at her, waiting for her reaction. He was right. Elsa cocked her head to the side and frowned, wondering how he was so accurate.

"Yeah, actually. How did you know?" she asked, slowly. Jack studied her for a few seconds more, making her shuffle a little under his gaze. Finally, he leaned back, resumed his non-committal expression and shrugged.

"I saw Richard Black leave your building. There's only one reason that asshole ever visits other companies, and it's never good. Hence my understanding of your anger in the car." he said, simply, unaware that the last sentence came out in a little bit of a dig. Elsa's frown dropped to a guilty expression, and she lowered her eyes to the table, wringing her hands a little.

"I never got to tell you I was sorry for snapping at you…" she muttered, biting her lip as she did so. Jack just waved it off.

"Don't be. Like I said, I understood. Let's just say it's not the first time I've seen Richard Black." he said in an almost soothing tone, creasing his eyes slightly. Elsa felt her guilt fall away as she looked up into his cobalt orbs, and smiled in appreciation. She leaned forward and rested her chin on her left hand, gazing at him thoughtfully.

"You know, when I first saw you in Mental Health, I thought you were an obnoxious idiot." she said, teasingly. Jack's eyebrows rose in mock-offense and he leaned forward.

"Oh? And now?" he asked, noting the sneaky eagerness for her answer.

"You're a puzzle. A very handsome but strange puzzle. And I  _love_  to solve puzzles." she declared bluntly. Jack wasn't ready for  _that_ reply, the wild grin trying desperately to appear and the sudden pink in his ears and cheeks being self-evident.

_Jeez, she's confident. And forward. Eep._

"Yeah? Well," he replied, searching for a way to counter her answer, "I thought you were just another bratty rich kid."

Elsa smiled wickedly, opening her hand in a gesture as if to say ' _and now?'_ , and for the first time, Jack was unable to prepare a snappy follow-up. He looked away in a rare show of shyness and mumbled something indiscernible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch that?" Elsa raised her eyebrows, keeping the wicked smile attached.

"Well, you're definitely not a kid." he said wryly, finding it difficult to say what he actually meant. Elsa stuck her tongue in her cheek but said nothing. The way Jack's mouth started opening and closing told her that there was something else he wanted to say, but couldn't find the words. Jack sighed, and the pink tinge to his cheeks became a whole lot more red.

"You're probably one of the most beautiful, confident women I have ever seen in my life." he mumbled, trying desperately not to become a human tomato. He needn't have worried, Elsa's cheeks stole his thunder and went a raging crimson, forcing her to try and suppress a wild grin and look away, only able to utter a shy  _"shush!"._

With the ice broken, and Elsa successful in her goal to get Jack to relax a little, the date-slash-meeting went well from there. Topics changed like channels on a television when a toddler has the remote control; ranging from favourite songs to hobbies, Jack's cooking skills, Elsa's love of Italian food, to their respective companies, dreams and aspirations, and on occasion their childhood. Naturally, Jack omitted some details, choosing instead to be quite vague with some things.

Elsa did most of the talking, with Jack playing the role of listener, and when he did speak it was in fairly short sentences. Never giving more away than he wanted to, which mildly frustrated Elsa. She had snippets from Rapunzel, Eugene and Pabbie, but not much else to go on. Three pieces of the jigsaw that was Jackson Overland.

What she  _did_  get, though, was far more gratifying. Jack was unable to hide the occasional chuckle or wider half-smile. He thought his face would crack; such was his level of unfamiliarity with the facial expression. And yet, he liked it.

Whether by fate or happen-stance, however, the conversation turned toward family – something Jack wanted to avoid by any means necessary…yet inexplicably, the topic that most wanted to be released from inside him. He just wouldn't let it out.

Not yet...maybe never. Maybe soon. Who knows?

"How is your family?" was her inevitable question. Jack shuffled uncomfortably in his seat, and took a moment to answer. Could he trust her? It was just a 'meeting' after all.

Probably better to go for the safer answer.

"My godparents? They're fine. Probably wrapped up in toy production for Christmas. Yours?" he deflected with another truth. North and Thiana were well as far as he knew, but it wasn't  _them_  that Elsa was asking about…and he knew it.

Elsa leaned back, a mixture of nostalgic amusement on her face but a little pain in her eyes as she looked to the side.

"Anna's fine, she's her typical stubborn, bouncy self. She's pretty much my only family; we lost our parents five years ago. My uncle Kai looked after us until I was eighteen, and it's been me and her ever since."

"I'm sorry for your loss." Jack muttered faintly, wondering precisely  _how_  to remove his foot from his mouth.

"Don't be, it was five years ago. I already went through the grieving process." she smiled and waved it off, though she knew the last part was a half-truth. Yesterday still held a sore topic for her.

An awkward blanket of silence fell around them. Talking about family had strayed a  _little_  too close to home for Jack's liking, and Elsa was starting to get that impression, too. Throats were cleared and the occasional locked gaze was averted, but when Elsa's eyes fell upon the drawing that poked out from under his college work, she cocked her head to the left and leaned in for a better view.

"What's that?"

Jack turned his head at her question, and followed her gaze down to the thin stack of papers under his right arm.

"Oh, that's…just a drawing…" he said awkwardly, sliding the sheet out and handing it to her. She made a point of taking the paper from the same edge that Jack's fingers were grasping, brushing lightly against his skin.

It felt so  _cold_ , like brushing against ice itself.

And he didn't jerk his hand away.

_Progress._

"Wow, that's…beautiful." was all Elsa could manage. Her eyes traced over each of the snowflake's lines, along the angular flower itself all the way to the diamond tips at the ends of the arm.

"Did you draw this from your own imagination?" she asked, turning her head slightly towards him but keeping her eyes fixed on the design.

Jack didn't answer straight away. His face became a frown and his eyes went to an invisible point on the wall, while tapping his fingers on the table in uncertainty. He couldn't deny it; the anxiety within him was becoming increasingly difficult to control especially when, in his mind, the most stunning woman in the world was sat across from him appreciating one of his drawings.

"Are you okay, Jack?" Her eyes now shifted from the drawing and stared directly into his.

"Yeah, I'm…just trying to work out how to say this without sounding creepy or weird. Um…I actually got the idea for it in Mental Health…from you." he muttered, flushing a deeper red.

_Ladies and gentlemen, we are now at Awkwardness Level Four. Please avert your eyes and place your faces in your palms. President Overland has made a complete moron of himself, and forgotten that he's SUPPOSED TO KEEP PEOPLE AT ARM'S LENGTH. NOT. DRAW. SNOWFLAKES. BASED. ON. THEM._

His mind was practically screaming at him now, so he looked away and tried to hide the rising self-reproach. Had his eyes stayed where they were, he would have seen her cheeks go a deeper shade of red and a grin spread across her cheeks, showing off her snow-white teeth.

He didn't need his eyes, though, to feel the hand delicately rest upon his tapping fingers, instantly silencing them. What surprised him was the rush of contradictory sensations shooting from the contact. Her skin felt as cold as the morning frost, but a strange sense of warmth existed at the touch.

It was like a flame, encased in ice. For a second, it stopped his heart.

"It's only a little bit weird, but ninety nine percent flattering. Points for you." she smiled, letting an edge of teasing humour dance across her words. Jack exhaled an uncomfortably loud breath of relief, as though her answer would dictate whether or not he would be swallowed by the earth.

He would live, this time, albeit tormented by embarrassment.

The real problem was his anxiety levels. They were approaching critical levels, and more than once during the 'meeting' he had to mentally stop his legs from automatically carrying him out of the coffee house. The walls were beginning to close in on him, his breathing was becoming too rapid and his eyes would not stop darting to the door.

_Get a hold of yourself, Overland. Having an attack is the LAST thing you want to be doing right now._

Elsa noticed his change in demeanour, from indifferent to slightly goofy, and finally on outright nervous. She leaned forward slightly and narrowed her eyes, in the way people do when they're pretending to let out a secret.

"Let's go for a walk. That mocha was delicious, but if that waitress keeps shooting me any more filthy looks, this place is going to be renamed _Murder in the Orient Espresso._ " she whispered, unable to stop the final few words from coming out in a threatening hiss.

Whether it was his nerves or the dry comment, neither of them could tell. All Elsa knew was that Jack threw his head back a little and snorted a loud chuckle, and not one but  _both_  sides of his mouth curled up into a wide, toothy smile. It hitched Elsa's breath, and if she was honest, sent a rush of renewed attraction through her body. It seemed to light up the room and bring out an entirely new facet to his personality. There was  _definitely_  something hidden inside, and she was now determined to find out what that was.

_Oh my fucking GOD that was a gorgeous smile. Aaaaand I was the one to bring it out. Elsa: 1, World: 0._

Jack rose to his feet, his smile having fallen almost as soon as it came, though the ends of his lips were still curled up in slight mirth.

"Actually, a walk would be perfect right now." he agreed, feeling his anxiety levels instantly start to lower at the prospect of being outside. They both rose at the same time, Jack hastily stuffed his college papers into his dark blue backpack while Elsa slipped back into her pea-coat. Noticing the snowflake design was still on the table; she deftly picked it up and offered it to him.

"Keep it. Technically, it's yours." he replied, shrugging like it was nothing. Both of them had the sneaking suspicion it was  _more_  than nothing, especially when Elsa let slip a pleased smile. Draining the last of his coffee, he was about to replace the mug when he noticed something scrawled haphazardly on the paper napkin it came with. It was a name and number, evidently left by the flirtatious waitress. He just rolled his eyes and replaced the cup, before walking out into the snowy street while Elsa remained behind to settle the bill.

Fishing out a ten-dollar note from her purse, her eyes fell upon the offending napkin and a thought of mischievous vengeance danced through her mind like a particularly cheeky imp. Sliding the napkin out from under Jack's cup, she walked over to the waitress behind the counter and fixed her with a knowing look as she handed over the dollar bill and the napkin together.

"The mocha was delicious, thank you. However, I would have tipped you more…but it's considered rude to flirt with someone's date." she said sternly, before she turned on her heels and strode victoriously out of the coffee house, the waitress' stunned expression depriving her of a comeback.

* * *

Jack raised his eyebrows at Elsa's expression of victorious pride as she approached.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing," she smiled wickedly as she started to walk off, "just…giving the waitress, erm...a tip."

Jack narrowed his eyes slightly and did that half-smile again, before striding to catch up with her. The  _crunch crunch_ of snow under their footsteps, and the occasional car driving by was all they heard for a minute or two, before Elsa fired off another question.

"You know, I meant to ask…what are you studying in college? I'm guessing Business, but do you have a minor?"

Jack couldn't resist it. He had no idea why, but there was an opening there and he had to take it. Something to do with the bubbling mirth and the anticipation of hearing laughter.

"Two, actually, they're hiding under my bed." he said dryly, fully aware that he might just be going to hell for that joke. Elsa frowned, not quite understanding before it clicked – and a most unladylike snort preceded a loud, long giggle.

_Worth it. One ticket to hell, please._

"Jack, did you just crack a  _joke?"_  she stared at him with mildly incredulous eyes, creased by the giggles still wracking her lungs. She didn't know whether it was the tastelessness of the joke or the fact that he actually had a capacity for humour, but either way it intensified her attraction to him from simmering to bubbling.

"I guess I did." he half-smiled, with a hint of pride.

"Wow, in that case I'm going to buy a lottery ticket." she said with faux-determination. Jack gave her an odd look.

"Why? Not like you need the money…" he asked quizzically.

"Well I've just seen the impassive Jackson Overland crack a smile  _and_ a joke in the same date with me. I consider myself lucky." she said proudly. However, she soon realised after a few steps that he was no longer alongside her. Confusion dancing on her features, she turned to find Jack had frozen a couple of yards behind her, a look of complete surprise on his face. His skin had started to pale a little – if it was possible – and his eyes even showed a little bit of fear.

"Did you just say a date? I thought it was…just the clearing of a debt…" he quietly asked, feeling the anxiety within him start to simmer once more.

"Um…yeah? I…is that bad? I mean, originally…" Elsa began, but found herself trailing off as Jack's reaction seemed to pull the rug from under her. Taking a deep breath, she reasserted her confidence and reorganised her thoughts. She couldn't help the disappointment and slightly stung feeling in her heart at the idea that they had met in the coffee house for different reasons.

"Originally it was to thank you, but the more I thought about it, and the more I looked forward to it, I realised it was a date. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression." she explained, wondering what his next reaction would be – which was a guilty sigh.

"No…it's not your fault, it's just…" he sighed, then gave up trying to organise his words, "thinking back on it, kinda obvious it was a date. Well, to everyone but me. I haven't been on a date in a  _long_  time and…I'm sorry, I'm just…not good around people…." he finished shyly and apologetically, but found himself blurting out something else before he even thought about it, while his eyes were still firmly fixed on the snowy ground.

"…especially people I like."

Elsa hitched her breath a little and the spark of attraction in her heart turned into a full-blown flame.

_So he_ does _like me._

She walked back towards him and, without thinking, took his hand in hers. For a second she panicked and cursed her involuntary gesture, thinking that he was going to freak out and run, but to her relieved surprise, he didn't.

He actually  _squeezed_   _back,_ even if only lightly.

"Look," she began, letting the words flow freely as though they were the most important thing in the world, "I hope I'm not being too forward with this, but I want to kind of clear the air a little."

Jack's body stiffened slightly as he looked up at her, preparing for the onslaught. She was being forward, no doubt about that. He was too used to people being tentative around him, but this girl? No, she was less than two feet away from him, gazing with those cerulean eyes into his. Those eyes that would not leave his mind, that stopped him from having his nightmares every night and always seemed to temper the anxiety within him. Those eyes that, if he was honest, he couldn't get enough of.

Whether he could admit that was another matter entirely.

"I like you, Jack. A lot. I really enjoyed our date, even if it wasn't what you thought it was and for you to say that you like me too? Well, let's just say I've been hoping for that, and maybe, if you're up for it, a second date sometime soon?" she declared, the hope rising in her chest.

That did it. Jack's body was no longer possessed of a semi-controlled chaos, it was full-blown disorder. His anxiety levels had shot up to near critical, his heart was thumping in his ears and his chest, and his breathing was uncomfortably loud and rapid. Words crashed into each other like a particularly vicious highway pileup, and his mind was too far gone. He was, in that moment, no longer the cool, collected Jackson Overland, but the other extreme, and he was scared.

Not scared of her, not at all. More like the fleeting apprehension when someone debates boarding a notoriously terrifying roller-coaster. Knowing that, in the end, they're going to enjoy it – but scared of the actual ride itself. His mouth felt as dry as a desert, so he swallowed in an attempt to wet his mouth.

Elsa noticed the long silence, and couldn't help but feel the flicker of hope begin to die down as her smile started to fall. Watching his expression was confusing, it seemed to flicker between pleasure, fear, anger, worry, and outright terror. She couldn't read him.

"Can I…can I get back to you on that?" he murmured weakly. Elsa felt herself deflate inside, the last time he said that, she had to almost corner him into the date. She wasn't sure if she could be bothered to once more.

"Of course…" she tried to sound soothing, hiding the disappointment. Feeling the need to do something to avert the awkwardness, she fished out her phone from her pea-coat pocket and gasped at the time.

"Fuck, it's six-fifteen! We've been talking for three hours!"

"Time flies, having fun, and all that jazz I guess." Jack replied lamely, inwardly kicking himself for his cowardice.

"I'd better get home, Anna's probably going nuts waiting to hear about our date!" she said, hurriedly pocketing her phone and searching for her keys. Pausing briefly, she frowned a little and looked back into Jack's pained eyes.

"Whatever happens, thank you for the date. It was lovely." she smiled, and without thinking, moved her lips to his cheek, planting a chaste, delicate kiss.

Jack's cheek threatened to explode and short out any nearby electronic devices; such was the ferocity of the tingles in his face. Three years had turned his skin into an over-sensitive mess, so the split second feeling of warm breath followed by the softest lips known to man sent his senses into overdrive…and his anxiety.

_Shitshitshitshitshit. She kissed you. On the cheek. And you let her. What are you doing, bro? You're supposed to keep people AWAY not let them KISS YOU!_

Elsa flashed him another smile before she said goodbye, and when she turned in what he assumed was the direction of her car, she hitched up the pea-coat so it sat more comfortably on her shoulders, at the same time as his eyes involuntarily traced lower down her body, coming to rest on what many considered to be the holy grail of yoga pants.

He found himself a sudden convert to that particular item of clothing, the way it hugged her legs and cheeks and accentuated her curves, especially in  _that_  place.

_Fuck me, she's hot. Sweet gods of whisky, I just went on a date with probably the hottest woman on the entire planet._

Noticing his blood rushing in a direction  _other_  than where it was supposed to go, he shook himself out of his slightly perverted reverie and wiped a hand across his face.

"Welp, I need a cold shower. Possibly an anxiety attack, but definitely a cold shower." he announced quietly to himself, having to re-arrange a certain part of the male anatomy as it impeded his leg movements back to his apartment.

* * *

It happened almost as soon as Jack arrived.

"No, no no no no no…don't take this away from me…" he whispered weakly, but pointlessly.

Ignoring his protests, the attack happened swiftly and without mercy. First his legs went from under him and he collapsed to the floor, feeling his heartbeat thunder in his ears, head and chest. Then came the shakes, his arms and legs jerking rapidly and sharply. His breathing came in short, quick gasps, and his head threatened to give out as the oxygen failed to get to his brain.

"N-not..now…f-f-fuck, not n-now…" was all he could muster, screwing his eyes shut as he waited for, in his experience, the mother of all anxiety attacks to pass.

And after about ten agonising minutes, it did. His mind beginning to clear, he awkwardly rose to his knees, using the shelving unit nearest the door to assist his vertical ascent and also to keep him upright. Staggering toward the kitchen, he ruffled through each of the drawers in a scramble to find what he was looking for…

…the blister-pack of anti-anxiety medication he had so far stubbornly refused to take.

_It's my own stupid fault. I have these problems, I have the medication. I really should take it._

He just never really had a reason to take them, until now. And he would be damned if he would let it happen again. Remembering to start easy, he resisted the urge to empty the entire pack, electing instead to just take one tablet. Retrieving a bottle of day-old water from the fridge, he shoved the tablet in his mouth and nearly emptied the bottle  _to_   _make sure the fucker stayed down_.

His mind hearkened back to the final few minutes of the date, where Elsa had made it clear she hoped for a second one. He did too, in all honesty, he was just in the throes of an internal battle to  _not_  collapse into a shaking mess in front of her. Last thing he wanted to do was scare her off, and the sight of him having a public freak out would probably do just that.

He had to rectify that mistake.

Fishing out his phone from his military jacket, he rapidly fired off one of the longest and hardest messages he ever sent. He hoped she would receive it in time, before the damage was irreparable.

_Fucking hell, Elsa. What are you doing to me?_

His heart's answer came almost immediately.

_She's thawing you, idiot._

* * *

Elsa slid the keys into the door of Snowfield House with a feeling of enjoyment tinged with a hint of dejectedness. Sure, she loved the time she spent with Jack, but his reaction to her suggestion of a second date was not one that she hoped for. In fact, it almost _hurt._

Anna, Rapunzel and Eugene were all waiting at the breakfast bar for her arrival, and as soon as the door opened Anna rushed forward to meet her elder sister, midway through a sentence.

"…and Kristoff just did the most amazing thing after dinner-"

She stopped short, when she saw the conflicted expression in her sister's features. Biting her lip, she put aside the big news that she had been waiting for almost the entire day to tell her elder sister. It could wait, there was no point blurting out the happy revelation if her sister wasn't in a great mood to receive it.

"-and I'm going to tell you about it after you tell me what's up. Rapunzel, coffee. Eugene, headphones and  _Disney Infinity._ "

Rapunzel hurried off to grab the pods from the cupboard, while Eugene began to protest.

"But-"

"No buts. Girl talk." Anna reinforced sternly. Eugene would ordinarily have whined, but something in Anna's eyes told him that this was serious. He nodded affirmatively, walking off toward the flat-screen television in obedience of Anna's order, promptly switching Iron Man with Captain America as soon as he reached the console.

"So, what happened? Did it not go well?" she asked, leading her sister over to the breakfast bar.

"It was lovely, actually. I really enjoyed myself. I even managed to get a smile and a joke out of him." she answered, grinning awkwardly at the memory. Rapunzel's eyes went wide, and in her surprise her fingers kept missing the dispenser's button. After about three or four pitiful attempts, she successfully found it, and the familiar gurgling began.

"So? Why so serious?" Anna frowned, cocking her head to the side.

"I told him I hoped for a second date, and he seemed to be really scared of the idea. Said he'd get back to me on it. I don't think he's interested." she answered glumly.

"Did he say he likes you?" Rapunzel queried.

"Yes…"

"Then he's interested." Anna finished simply, sharing knowing glances with Rapunzel.

"Do you think so?" Elsa looked up apprehensively.

"Duh! I mean, you've got this superpower to wake up in the morning looking gorgeous, you're next in line to be CEO, and you've got the most awesome friends in existence. Who  _wouldn't_  be interested?" Anna gushed, squeezing her sister's hands.

"Maybe…" Elsa answered weakly. She wasn't sure if she could believe them. Gorgeous? Yes. CEO? Probably. Friends? Definitely.

Interested? Possibly not.

Music from Elsa's pea-coat reached their ears, and she instinctively reached into her pocket to find her phone. She recognised the ringtone as _Stockholm Syndrome_  by Muse, which told her that a text had arrived…sparking a little hope inside her. Pressing the standby button, a message was indeed waiting expectantly for the touch of her slender finger.

From Jack.

_New message (1): From Jack_

_"Hey. Sorry about earlier, it's just that I've got really annoying anxiety problems. I want you to know that I enjoyed the date too, and I would really like a second one. – Jack_

_P.S. There aren't enough cold showers in the world for those yoga pants, FYI."_

Elsa's mouth instantly went from a deflated frown to a blushing, wild grin. Anna noticed the immediate change, and snatched the phone from Elsa's frozen hands. Upon reading the message, she smirked proudly while passing the phone to Rapunzel, who echoed the expression when she had finished reading.

"See? What did I tell you?" Anna teased.

Elsa didn't hear a word, she was too busy burning inside with glee. She couldn't help jumping out of her skin, though, much like the other two when Eugene's dismayed cries echoed through the open-plan rooms.

"Oh for fuck's sake! You're fucking  _Captain America!_ Of course you can swim!" he shouted at the screen, as Steve Rogers showed him that, contrary to popular belief, he could not.

Who knew?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Captain America owned by Marvel which is owned by Disney..yada yada yada.
> 
> It's kind of a double bill, because there was a LOT I wanted to get down. Sorry about that. It's also taken me longer to upload because I kinda wanted to be perfect. Alas, nothing ever is, so as before, criticisms and comments are welcome.
> 
> Also, eagle-eyed readers may recognise the specific configuration of the snowflake Jack has been drawing - and it's going to crop up later in a big way. I think you'll all love it.
> 
> Thank you all for your kind comments so far, they never fail to bring a smile to my face and encourage me to keep writing. I hope I can continue to do you all proud.
> 
> Keep your eyes out though, because something wicked their way comes.


	14. Guided By the North Star

Elsa checked her phone for about the eighteenth time since she arrived in Kai's office.

10:40 am. Twenty minutes before the Wednesday board meeting, twenty agonising, excruciating minutes.

"Would you like a drink, Elsa?" Kai asked, not looking up from a sheet of expenditure records that had been delivered about half an hour ago. She was, quite honestly, envious of the seemingly relaxed uncle sat on the other side of the desk, looking down through ancient half-moon spectacles at the mass of figures and totals on the paper.

If anything, he wasn't relaxed. Inside, he was apprehensive, because Black Advertising had not made a move yet. By rights, they should have at least made their intentions clear to the public via the business pages in the New York Times.

But, they hadn't. They had been surprisingly quiet; nothing even peripherally related to them had made it into the papers or the business blogs on the Internet.

Kai didn't like that. Not one bit. Knowing their enemy was out for their blood, but not knowing  _when_  or  _how_ they would strike? It left a bad taste in his mouth and a sinister feeling in his gut.

"Hmm?" Elsa answered absent-mindedly, scrolling through her text messages. Since Monday, her phone had received nothing from anyone, despite her sending messages out on their merry way. Jack seemed to be off the grid, and even Anna was decidedly silent. She had figured that her sister would be too busy planning her wedding to Kristoff, even though it was at  _least_  a year away, but she couldn't for the life of her fathom why Jack had suddenly gone underground.

She thought she was making progress with him. Sure, it was only the first date, but the fact that he actually came out and said that he enjoyed it suggested to her that there could be something there. Hell, she felt it within herself, that spark of attraction that had become a candle flame. Did he have it too? She didn't know, and he wasn't exactly forthcoming about it. All she knew was that he liked her, but how much?

Questions like those still raged around her head and weren't helping her apprehension toward the impending meeting – which was now only seven minutes away.

"I asked if you wanted a drink, but it's a little late now. By the way, how are you doing regarding the exposure ideas?"

"Erm, Anna actually took control of that." Elsa said sheepishly. Telling Kai that her outgoing little sister, who had little interest in becoming CEO, had taken charge of planning the mysterious party seemed a little contradictory to her nature. It was supposed to be Elsa's job, after all.

"Good," he said simply, causing Elsa to look up in surprise, "it means you have a lighter workload. Your life shouldn't revolve around Fractal Fashion just yet."

Elsa frowned, feeling a little outnumbered. Kai had only made a slightly vague reference before toward her eventual role, but now he had joined Anna in being as blunt as possible. It was starting to get annoying, thinking about it. Did they think she wasn't cut out for the career?

"You know," she muttered darkly, "that seems to be a running theme so far."

Kai looked up from the reports and gazed thoughtfully at her. He exhaled deeply, placing the report back upon his desk and laced his fingers together.

"Before you think the wrong thing, Elsa, it's not that I think you are not worthy, or capable of running this company. What I do worry about is that, as you well know, sitting in this chair holds a  _lot_  of responsibility, and takes up a  _lot_ of time. And at your age, it may be time better spent."

"What do you mean? My father's company is not worthy of my time?" she snapped, unable to hide the mild anger in her voice. Kai flinched at her tone, but composed himself and assumed an expression that was almost stony and reproachful.

"Elsa, look at me. I am a fifty four year old widower. I work here, for up to forty five hours a week, every day. When I go home, I pore through projected sales, trend reports and expenditure reports. Sometimes, I am even able to watch  _maybe_  an hour of television, before I must sleep and start the day anew. Simply put, this is my life."

She wasn't expecting that. Kai rarely spoke about his time outside of Fractal Fashion, and it seemed there was a reason for that.

"You, however, are a beautiful twenty one year old woman, who has the world at her fingertips. You have the money and the drive to go anywhere you want to go, to do anything you want to do. My worry is that you would be giving all of that up simply because you feel you owe it to your father to carry on in his name. If I am to be truly honest, when Agdar told me that you wanted to take over after him, I felt you were making a big mistake."

Elsa looked down, trying to dissuade the pain in her chest from creating a repeat of Sunday's talk with Anna.

_Seriously? Am I wearing a fucking bulls-eye over my heart? Christ! I want to do this, I want to!_

_I want to…_

_Do I?_

"It's something I want to do…" Elsa spoke with something she hoped was conviction.

_Liar._

Kai looked like he was going to counter, but a loud ringing from the internal telephone stole his thunder. Mercifully, he had stood by his word and changed the ringtone, though Elsa didn't have much of an opportunity to appreciate the difference – Kai had almost immediately picked up the phone and raised it to his ear.

"Yes? Thank you. We will be there shortly."

He replaced the receiver and gathered together the stack of papers on his desk, gripping them tightly as he rose to his feet.

"They are ready for us." he announced evenly. Elsa rose to her feet as well, when a thought struck her mind. It was a long shot, but curiosity got the better of her.

"Kai, when Mr St North was here, did he mention anything about his godson?" she asked, but Kai merely shrugged.

"Not that I am aware of. He was mentioned in passing, but nothing more detailed than that. Why?"

"Just curious. He's in my Business lecture class, but no-one seems to know anything about him." she also shrugged, trying to appear casual.

"Maybe there is a reason for that. In any case, we should go. The board members are notoriously impatient, and I would hate to be the first CEO to throw one out of the fortieth floor window." he said darkly.

Elsa laughed, and told him that she would catch up. Kai strode off to call the lift, while Elsa's eyes wandered over his desk. There was something specific she was looking for…

"Aha!" she whispered proudly, hurrying over to the rolodex obscured behind a Newton's Cradle. Flicking through the myriad of business cards that Kai had accumulated over the years, she muttered to herself as she went through each letter.

"L….M….N….North!" she exclaimed victoriously, pulling out a rather swanky business card. Quickly typing the cell number into her phone and saving it, she replaced the card and strode quickly after Kai, feeling a little more ready to take on the board members.

After all, she now had a way to find out precisely  _why_  Jackson Overland was off-the-grid.

* * *

Jack had indeed gone dark, as they say in the intelligence sector, and it was thanks to a basic regimen of hygiene.

To the average person, a cold shower is primarily used to stop someone from feeling too…frisky. Many a time, when he was sixteen, had his mother told him to _'go take a cold shower'_  if his gaze lingered a little  _too_  long on an attractive girl when they went for a family trip to the mall.

What a lot of people seemed to forget was that a cold shower can often give the body and mind a 'soft reset'. Whether he expected the bonus effect or not was another matter, but it was exactly what he needed after the date.

Sporting a fresh set of clothes and drying his snow-white hair with the towel, he was hit with the realisation that he had gone about this Elsa thing _way_  too fast. He had gone from open antagonism, to cordial, to friendly, to date and then potential second date in the space of a week.

For someone with anxiety problems and severe trust issues, it was terrifying. He had inadvertently allowed himself to be swept up in the new, unknown sensation of being attracted to someone, forgetting that he still had so many demons to face. As North would so eloquently put, it was like inviting someone to your house when you haven't tidied up.

And Jack's mind was a bomb-site.

For the first time in three years, he had no direction, no guiding star, and from Monday evening until Wednesday morning, he hid in his apartment, completely rudderless.

"I have no idea what the fuck to do…" he had whispered to himself.

Fate, it seemed, had other ideas. Almost as soon as he uttered those words,  _Immigrant Song_  blasted out from his phone, heralding the arrival of a new message. He hesitated; Elsa had messaged him several times over the past few days and he had not replied to any of then, but something told him that this was important. He picked up the loudspeaker masquerading as a smartphone, and pressed the standby button.

_New Message (1) From: Nick_

_"Morning, Jackson. Just touching base, how are things?" – Nick_

Jack hesitated a moment, wondering what to do. Should he keep his thoughts to himself?

_No. Nick might know what to do. Tell him._

He slowly tapped out a reply, wondering if this was a door he would never be able to close.

_"I need advice. – Jack"_

_"Oh? On what? – Nick"_

_"A girl. – Jack"_

North had not replied after that, but the quick hammering on his apartment door twenty minutes later told him that the advice he was seeking was something that could not be conveyed by simple messages. Apprehensively opening the door, he stood back to allow the mountainous form of his godfather to enter the room, taking care to duck under the doorframe, sporting a small beige duffel bag.

Nicholas St North was indeed rather tall and wide, dwarfing his godson by a sizeable margin. Jack had surmised that North had taken a day off – his dangerously stretched black T-shirt with  _Bozhe Moi!_ emblazoned in red on the front, along with his comfortable blue denim trousers was definitely not CEO attire. Even for a CEO as laid back as North.

Jack closed the door behind him and turned to find his godfather gazing at him thoughtfully, his arms crossed over his impressive chest, showing off the words  _Naughty_ and  _Nice_  tattooed on his forearms. Jack felt a little uncomfortable under his searching gaze, raising a hand to scratch behind his head.

"You see, North, the thing is-" he began, but North held up a giant hand to silence him.

"First things first: Do you have whisky?" he boomed. Jack shook his head, he had forgotten to…appropriate…some from his godfather. DunBroch Whisky was hard to come by outside of Europe, but because Angus DunBroch owed North a favour or two, bottles were shipped by the crate especially for him, at a discount price.

"No problem," he shrugged, holding up the duffel bag, "I came prepared. Go and find us something to drink from, and we'll get down to brass tax."

Jack went to the kitchen to find two glasses, while North pulled out three bottles of the amber liquid and placed them on the coffee table in the living room. Choosing the sturdier of the two armchairs, North studied his godson closely as he returned with two special whisky glasses, filling them halfway and passing one over before collapsing on the sofa.

"No offense, but thanks for not bringing Thiana." Jack muttered, taking a sip of the whisky while staring at the blank television screen. Oh, how he missed the stuff.

"None taken. I know she can be a bit…overbearing. I guessed you might be a little sensitive right now, and it seems I was right." he shrugged, taking a large swig. "So, when you're ready?"

Jack exhaled deeply, and decided to go from the top.

He told North all about the first meeting in college, the accidental use of his nickname. The coffee spilling incident in the street and Elsa's insistence on reparations, both then and later, in the music store.

Jack's offer of being the evening's chauffeur due to the slashing of her tyres, along with paying for her car repairs.

Saturday's events, including Jack's near suicide and the almost cosmic timing of Elsa's text. Everything up to and including the date, two days previously.

North, to his credit, didn't say a word. He just nodded, sipped his whisky and listened. He couldn't help but growl sternly when Jack mentioned the quarry incident, but aside from that he was a model pseudo-psychiatrist. When his godson finally finished explaining everything, North leant back in the chair and rested the glass against his mouth, his eyes firmly fixed on Jack in a studious manner. Feeling the silence become deafening, Jack filled his glass with more whisky and took a deep swig.

"So what do I do?" Jack asked. The idea of actually depending on someone was alien to him after three years of isolation, but after the week's events, reaching out to family seemed like a drop in the ocean. North studied him for a few seconds more, before firing off a question – which Jack was not expecting.

"How does this girl make you  _feel_?" he asked, simply. Jack leaned back on the sofa and stared at the ceiling, a faraway look dancing on his pale, chiselled features.

"Conflicted." was the most accurate answer he could come up with, "I like her, and I know she likes me. For the past week, I haven't had a single nightmare, and on our date, I actually sorta had  _fun._ And…I let her kiss me on the cheek. All of the issues I have with people, with her it's…different…"

"But?" North prompted, waving the glass.

"I've had more anxiety attacks in the last week than I've had in two years. All to do with her. Every time she touched me, I freak out later. I had my worst attack ever after the date, and I'm scared that it's going to keep happening. I mean, I even agreed to a  _second_  date for crying out loud, in the same message where I told her about my anxiety problems! What happens if she wants to kiss me on the lips? Fucking heart attack?  _Jesus tap-dancing Christ…_ "

He surged forward and buried his head in his hands, the cold whisky glass resting comfortably against his temple. North exhaled deeply, a breath that could fill a hot air balloon if he tried.

"The solution is simple, Jack. Just be friends, at least for the time being." North answered calmly. Jack looked up, slightly puzzled, prompting North to lean forward and fix his godson with an unflinching, even gaze.

"The way I see it is: for three years you have lived in self-imposed isolation. You've never opened up to anyone, not even me or Thiana, right? Along comes this woman who seems to resonate with something inside you, that seems to cut through the walls and brings out parts of you that so far you have successfully kept hidden from the world. Part of you enjoys it, but the rest of you, the part with all the mental issues you have is absolutely terrified of letting her in, because you might get hurt. Am I on the right track?"

Jack nodded slowly. It never ceased to amaze him how wise North was, when the time was right.

"The problem is: on the one hand-" he held up his left hand to illustrate the point, "-you have this isolation, this need to keep people away that has protected you for so long. And on the other-" he held up his glass-hand, "-the attraction to this woman. Two polar opposites. So, they clash-"

He brought his hands together sharply, nearly spilling his whisky in the process.

"-and that causes your anxiety attacks. So, my advice would be to tackle your anxiety problems first, before you do anything else. Then, when you feel you are ready – and  _not_  before – you can decide whether you want to let her in, to let her get to know  _who you really are_."

"But what if she loses interest? What if I reach that point where I can comfortably let someone in, but she's already found someone else? What if-" Jack started to ramble, but North held up another silencing hand.

"Jack, you're not doing this for her. You're doing it for  _you._ Living in isolation for this long? It's not healthy. Going from enemies to dating in the space of a week with the problems you suffer?  _Definitely_  not healthy. To be candid, I'm surprised at you."

"What if she doesn't understand?" Jack couldn't help himself but blurt out that question.

"I cannot speak for her character, but if she is special enough for us to be having this conversation, I believe she will. Out of curiosity, who is this 'she' that we are talking about?" North had enough of the vague references, obviously. A name was needed.

"Elsa." Jack answered, simply. North raised both of his eyebrows and couldn't help letting a grin spontaneously appear under his huge beard.

"Elsa Snowfield. I met her on Saturday, visiting the CEO of Fractal Fashion. She is a very beautiful lady, Jack, you are fortunate to have attracted her attention."

_I am. I just don't want to scare her._

A vibration in North's pocket told him that someone was anxious for his attention, so with great effort, he slid the phone from his pocket and frowned as he studied the recently arrived message.

"Bah! Problem at the office. Jack, I am sorry to cut our conversation short, but I must go."

They both rose to their feet at the same time, Jack walking to the door and holding it open for him. When North picked up the duffel bag but left the bottles, Jack frowned and called his attention to them.

"They are for you, Jack. You don't need to steal them." North stated knowingly, forcing Jack to blush sheepishly. He was about to duck under the doorframe once more, before he paused and fixed his godson with another studious gaze.

"Remember what I said, Jack. It wouldn't be fair to either of you, especially Elsa, if you continue down this path when you are  _clearly_ not ready. Take some time, enjoy her company. When or if you feel you are ready to let her in, then you'll be in a position to do so. Right now, you'd just be setting yourselves up for a world of hurt."

And without another word, the North Mountain strode out of the apartment, leaving a huge vacuum both physically and emotionally where he stood seconds before. Jack stared at the floor, processing his godfather's words.

_I knew it. He's right. I can't do this right now._

* * *

North couldn't help but smile slightly as he stepped out of the apartment complex. If it went right, his godson would return to him, the joking, mischievous boy that he once was, not the gruff outsider that he hides behind.

But if it went wrong, the damage could be catastrophic and irreparable. Everything was riding on the decision that Jack was about to make.

With a deep sigh, he re-read the message that had arrived in the apartment, the content of which he didn't feel it was appropriate to relay to his godson.

_New Message (1) Unknown:_

_"Mr St North? This is Elsa Snowfield. When you have a moment, can we talk about your godson? He hasn't been replying to any of my messages, I just want to know if he's okay."_

North wondered precisely how to reply, or even if he should. Technically it was Jack's job to explain what they had just been talking about. No-one could do it for him.

_"My godson is...unwell. If you wish to know details, I suggest you ask him. I cannot speak for him in this regard, but I feel I must warn you, the answer may not be what you're after. – Nick"_

* * *

"Not what I'm after? What the hell does he mean by  _that?_ " Elsa whispered to herself as she exited the elevator with Kai, eyes fixed on the message that had just arrived from North. Why was it so cryptic, and yet ominous? Elsa just wanted to know if Jack was okay.

It was a simple enough question, or so she had thought.

_He's…unwell? He mentioned anxiety issues in his message, but could there be other things? Christ, why doesn't he tell me?_

Kai either hadn't heard the whisper or wasn't paying attention; such was his silence as they both made their way to the meeting room. Elsa decided to put the enigmatic revelation to one side for the moment as they approached the frosted glass door to the room, and the antsy board of directors within. Sliding the door to the left, Kai entered first followed by Elsa, and they both took the only empty seats available. The CEO was to be sat at the head of the long, clear glass table, with Elsa sat to his right.

Kai gazed at each of the men and women staring right back at him. It was a studious look, like a teacher surveying an examination. Watching for reactions. Scrutinizing for tell-tale expressions.

Picking out the weak links.

Finally, he cleared his throat and straightened himself up, rested his arms on the table and laced his fingers together.

"I have called this board meeting to announce something that has the possibility to cause Fractal Fashion some problems." he declared firmly. It was obvious that, in this room, he had the floor. Several people shuffled uncomfortably and others stiffened, but all eyes were still firmly fixed on him.

"Black Advertising Corporation has announced their intentions to acquire this company." he finished, letting the weight of the revelation sink in. Murmurs flitted around the room, the members starting to converse with each other about the ominous news. Some even showed flashes of fear in their faces. When Kai began to speak once more, the voices fell silent and attention was returned firmly toward him.

"I do not know  _how_  they are going to make their first move, or  _when._ All I can presume so far is that they are going to initiate takeover proceedings soon. Most likely, it will be a  _creeping takeover_ , judging by what history has to say about their previous acquisitions."

Elsa quietly agreed. It tallied with everything she knew about Black and his methods.

"I am here to tell you that I will  _not_  let that happen. I will not let this company become another notch on the bedpost that is Richard Black's corporation. I already have a  _shark watcher_  monitoring the stocks and shares, and he will alert me as soon as a move is made."

One member popped up at the back, a short, middle-aged woman with wispy brown hair.

"What if they do? Black Advertising is a mega-corporation. We know they don't  _just_  do advertising. They could move in and throw us all out tomorrow if they wanted!" she said, the worry in her voice starkly apparent. Elsa's eyes lingered on her briefly, reading her reaction. She was definitely a weak link.

"Richard Black is the personification of arrogance, cultivated by years of getting what he wants. I am confident that, with us, he will have bitten off more than he can chew. Fractal Fashion is a well-loved company in the world today, with staunch friends among other companies. I believe that, with the right moves and the right friends, we can resist the takeover and continue to sell clothing of all sizes and colours, not just the sizes that Black thinks we should cater to."

Elsa couldn't help the feeling of pride surge within her. Kai was so emphatic, possessed of such  _conviction_  that, for a second, she wished her father was more like him. Nods and murmurs of assent filled the room, and the flickering fear in some of their faces was replaced by smiles. Except Mrs Wispy Hair, however, she still looked decidedly worried.

A knock at the door alerted Kai, and after excusing himself he slid through the door and spoke to the person on the other side. Elsa watched the blurry movements closely, at first Kai was straight and proud, but he began to slump a little as he slowly pinched his nose.

Whatever he had been told, it wasn't good.

The door slid open once more and Kai returned to his chair, but he did not sit. Rather, he clenched his hands and leaned on his knuckles, trying to appear intimidating and in control, but Elsa saw the look in his eyes. A look that confirmed her suspicions, which was then reinforced by his ominous next words.

"Fate, it seems, is not without a sense of irony. I have just been informed that Black Advertising has just initiated a toe-hold purchase. They now own four percent of the shares in Fractal Fashion."

_So it begins…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of people had mentioned that things had happened a little faster than they expected, but as the Joker said in The Dark Knight: "It's all part of the plan". Jack has started to open up, but there's still a long way to go.
> 
> When he does, though, it's going to be big. I promise y'all that. As always, many thanks for the reading and reviewing. I've read some stonkingly awesome fanfictions both on here and FFN, like Frostbitten or The Storm Inside, and if CttT is even a quarter as good as they are, I'm happy with that.
> 
> Until next time.


	15. Whiplash

Elsa needed a place to sit and think.

After the revelation during the board meeting that Black Advertising now had their decaying, corrupted fingers on four percent of Fractal Fashion’s stock, along with the raucous arguing that followed it, she had heard nothing but noise, and a cacophony of voices.

Her head ached, her mind was worn, and she needed quiet. So she went to the only place she remembered that she felt relaxed and unhurried – The Orient Espresso.

Strangely, she had done a Jack and picked the table at the far end of the room, nursing a fresh mocha and going through Kai’s contingency plan. He had already set up a _Golden Parachute,_ guaranteeing the board of directors and other senior management members extensive benefits, severance pay and perks if they were forced by Black to resign. In addition, he had prepared the _Killer Bees_ strategy, hoping to try and delay the acquisition of shares by tying Black up in litigation cases. If his attention was focused on lots of claims of unfair dismissal or sexual harassment, he would hopefully be too busy to continue buying Fractal Fashion’s stock.

It was a theory, and it would hopefully buy them some time to think of another way to prevent the takeover.

It didn’t take long, though, in her deflated state for the words and numbers to bleed into one, and with a deep exhalation she conceded defeat to the information currently overloading her tired mind.

_Maybe Kai was right. Maybe I’m not ready to take the reins._

She decided that another sip of the delicious mocha was needed, though she couldn’t quite escape the paranoid thought that the waitress had spat in it, judging by the death glares she had been receiving since she had arrived. She then nearly choked on the mouthful of coffee when her phone loudly vibrated against the wood. After hearing nothing for two days bar the ominous text from Nicholas St North, it was like the smartphone had been resurrected from oblivion.

Hastily picking it up, she pressed the standby button and scanned the notifications.

_New Message (1) From: Jack_

_“Hey. You busy? – Jack”_

Elsa’s heart immediately began to flutter and she hurriedly tapped out a reply, feeling a smile creep across her lips.

_“Not really. I’m in the Orient Espresso if you want to meet up :) – Elsa x_

She hoped he would. She liked Jack’s company, and she could definitely use the distraction.

_“Be there in five. – Jack”_

* * *

 

He actually arrived in three. Sporting his characteristic military jacket and navy blue hoodie, and toting a pair of black denim trousers, he went straight to the empty chair across from Elsa. This time, he didn’t crack a smile, not even a curling of the lips. In fact, his expression had gone straight back to ‘poker face’.

Elsa would be lying if she said it didn’t send an unwelcome twinge through her stomach.

“Nice to see you too.” she smiled, the sarcastic edge to her words all too evident. Jack shot her a look and was about to retort, but that _fucking smile again_. He looked away as words clashed like a high-speed pile-up again in his mind, and he felt the anxiety begin to bubble up once more.

_Think happy thoughts. Think happy thoughts._

Those eyes and that pleasant smile swam into his mind’s eye once again.

_Not helping!_

“Jack, is there something wrong?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, her smile falling to a concerned frown. Jack returned his eyes to hers, and slowly but surely the words began to come out. Watched like a hawk, naturally.

“Y-yeah, actually. Erm…” he stuttered, having severe trouble speaking. He didn’t know whether it was nervousness or being careful about what he was going to say, but either way it was starting to grate on him.

_How is it that the words ‘I’m not ready to be more than friends’ are so fucking hard to speak?_

His mouth opened and closed a few more times, doing his best impression of a goldfish, as he found the words were clashing together again. In any other situation it would have been cute, but right now, it was painfully awkward – and pissing Jack the fuck off. Probably irritating her too, but he couldn’t tell behind the patient, concerned gaze she was giving him.

Was it that he felt something for her? He did, but as North said, that was more of a problem right now than a good thing.

“Look, Jack. Whatever it is-”

“Can we…can we be just friends?” he interrupted, blurting it out. A small part of him kicked himself as soon as the words escaped his lips. Elsa flinched in surprise.

“Um…yeah? I thought we already were?” she raised an eyebrow, her smile of support becoming a tiny smirk of amusement.

“Huh...wait…what?”

“Jack, we only had the first date. It’s not like we’re getting married soon, or that I’m going to drag you kicking and screaming back to my place and sleep with you!” she teased, giggles starting to punctuate her words. Neither of them could hide the massive flush in their cheeks at the last part, though.

Jack was struck with the rather dirty idea that, if he wasn’t such a fuck-up, he wouldn’t have minded the last part. Not one bit.

_Mind out of the gutter, Jacky Boy._

“I…erm…” he tried to stammer, but Elsa leaned forward and fixed him with a look.

“What’s the problem?” she asked, the irritation starting to simmer inside her chest. Jack sighed – he had already told her about his anxiety in the message, she might as well know the extent of it.

Not the reason _for_ his anxiety, of course. He didn’t feel comfortable with her knowing that.

“Me.” he answered simply, choosing to focus on a small scratch on the table.

Elsa was starting to get really annoyed now, after the morning’s revelation and her inability to get over her mental fatigue to make sense of the reports, the last thing she needed right now was vague, enigmatic attempts at conversation from someone who,  quite clearly wasn’t sure what he wanted. Sighing exasperatedly, she twisted around to unhook her pea-coat from the chair, slid her arms into the sleeves and rose from the table, collecting the reports together but leaving the half-full mug of mocha untouched.

“Look, I don’t have the energy for this. I’ve had a shitty morning, I’m stressed to hell and back, and was kind of looking forward to your company but right now it seems like you don’t want to be here. If this is what our second date was going to be, I’m kind of glad we aren’t having one.” she said, the last part slipping out in displeased irritation before she knew it.

What annoyed her most was that Jack didn’t even look up from the table or protest.

“See you around.” she said slightly acidly, and without another word strode out of the coffee house.

She was pretty sure she heard the thump of a fist on wood as she passed through the door.

* * *

 

“Don’t you think it’s a bit _early_ to be doing this?” Rapunzel asked amusedly.

Anna had enlisted her aid in browsing Arendelle City’s bridal wear shops for ideas for the wedding, which as Rapunzel had pointed out, was not due to happen for over a year. Still, it kept Anna out of mischief, and more importantly kept her from being _bored._

And when Anna gets bored, bad things happen.

“It’s never too early to plan a wedding.” Anna replied brightly, closely inspecting a long white satin shoulder-less dress with a heart-shaped bust line. Rapunzel trotted over and pulled the bust line down, snickering at the fact that it was padded for extra cleavage.

“Anna, you don’t need padding. Not with _those_ beauties,” she said, completely invading Anna’s personal space and lifting her breasts in illustration, “and if you wear _that_ , Kristoff _will_ faint.”

“Hey hey hey! Easy on the merchandise!” Anna protested, batting Rapunzel’s arm away and covering her chest protectively. The brown-haired heir snickered rudely, then took a few steps back to inspect Anna’s entire frame.

“White wouldn’t suit you, anyway.” she announced, narrowing her eyes as she scrutinised Anna’s skin colour.

“What?” Anna looked shocked, “are you implying I’m not a virgin?!” Rapunzel rolled her eyes and placed her hands on her hips.

“Anna, we _all_ know you’re saving yourself for the right time. My point is that this is the twenty first century. People are getting married in _Game of Thrones_ cosplay costumes, for crying out loud. You don’t _have_ to stick with white.”

The younger Snowfield sister jutted out her jaw in thought. Maybe Rapunzel was right. After all, it was her wedding, she could dictate the dress if she wanted.

“As long as it’s not a _red wedding.”_ Anna joked, prompting a snort from her best friend.

“Remind me again how Kristoff proposed!” Rapunzel squealed a little, a faraway look on her face and a dreamy tone to her voice. Anna rolled her eyes; this would be the third time. She couldn’t help but grin widely and feel burning warmth erupt in her heart though.

“It was midway through dessert. Oaken himself came out with the bill, and Kristoff was going to pay by credit card, but he said he lost his pen. So I offered to go through my handbag for it, and what do you know, he had slipped a jewellery box inside.”

Anna shared the faraway look now, gazing at the bright silver engagement ring on her finger, the diamond sat proudly reflecting the light.

“I was going to ask him what it was, but before I could finish he was already on his knee and opening it for me. I say ‘on his knee’, because he was still on the same level as me, but then he opened his mouth and I think I pretty much melted into the seat. He said ‘Anna, I fell for you pretty much the moment I saw you, and cherish every day I have with you. Your smile brightens my day like the morning sunrise, and your face is the last thing I see before I sleep. I want that to happen for the rest of my life, so will you make me the happiest man alive and marry me?’”

Rapunzel pretty much became _‘squee’_ incarnate, and even the shop owner sighed romantically. Anna was lost in thought for a moment, but then furrowed her brows with excitement as a thought appeared.

“My wedding dress is going to be light green!” she decided proudly.

* * *

 

“Fuck it.” he muttered angrily to himself.

Trudging through the snowy street while deftly dodging patches of ice, Jack kept his gaze firmly fixed on the ground as though he was trying to melt it with the metaphorical laser beams from his eyes.

He had tried. He wanted to give Elsa a reason why he wanted to be only friends, but every time he tried to speak, his throat would close up and the anxiety would rise again. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place – on the one hand, the constant silence and stutters would…and did…piss Elsa off, but on the other, he would have probably had an attack there and then.

He wanted to explain why, but his fears wouldn’t let him.

And then she pretty much made it clear that she had enough and wasn’t interested, wouldn’t wait to see if he could get _past_ the fear and maybe, just maybe open up a little bit of himself. Complete turnaround from the Monday.

Maybe there was something else behind it, possibly to do with the papers that she had been studying before he arrived. Either way, he didn’t care now. If they remained friends? Great. If not? Probably _better._

_So why am I even angry?_

It didn’t matter. Everything would be back to normal and the status quo would be restored. He’d go to the supermarket, buy ingredients for his coping mechanism, and carry on in his hole. Maybe make Spaghetti Bolognese tonight, or gnocchi.

_Pfft. Like it matters, you just freeze it anyway._

At least he would, had a bright voice not called out from the bridal wear shop he had just passed.

“Hey, Jack! Wait up!”

_Not you again…_

He simultaneously froze, slumped his head in resignation and let out a painfully audible sigh. Forcing himself to turn around, he was greeted by the _other_ Snowfield sister and another woman that was oddly familiar…

“Hey, you remember Rapunzel don’t you?” Anna grinned, gesturing to the woman. Rapunzel, that was it. Corona College. He did have another name for her, though.

“Whiplash Braid.” he said, nodding politely at her. Anna snorted, while Rapunzel flushed and rolled her eyes.

“How’s it going?” Anna asked, once her giggles had subsided.

“Marvellous,” he said, unable to hide the bitterness in his tone, “you?”

“Planning for my wedding. My boyfriend Kristoff proposed to me. Hey, are you looking forward to your second date with Elsa?”

“Congratulations, and there won’t be a second date.” Jack replied abruptly, a scowl appearing and then instantly disappearing on his face. Anna’s beam dropped like a stone, and even Rapunzel frowned in confusion.

“What? What happened? I thought you were looking forward to it?!” Anna said in surprise.

“Ask your _sister_.” he said acidly as he turned and strode off, leaving the two women to bewilderedly stare after him.

* * *

 

Elsa had gone home after the ‘talk’ in the Orient Espresso, hoping that with the house being empty and silent she could re-organise her brain and try and see a pattern, a way to defeating Black Advertising Corporation.

Laid on the sofa with the reports in her hand, her hair spread widely over one of the red cushions acting as a pillow, she finally gave up. Her mind was too cluttered at the moment to think straight. A drop of dread had settled in her stomach when she thought of the toe-hold purchase, knowing that the first blood had been drawn, and that the dread would only grow with every purchase that Black made.

Mocha was needed.

Sliding off the sofa, she walked toward the coffee dispenser and performed the usual routine – pod, button, gurgle. Staring thoughtfully at the black machine in front of her, she found herself annoyed that there was no time-scale. No finite date. No idea as to when Black would reach the supermajority amendment of seventy-five percent that her father had set up.

It could be tomorrow. It could be a year from now.

She just hated not knowing.

Which then brought the other source of today’s stress to her mind. Jack was obviously new to the dating scene as he would have known that after the first date, things are fluid. People are not locked into a relationship there and then. Sure, his sudden reversal from dating to friendship kind of pulled the rug from under her, but given that all she knew about him was basic things like hobbies and music, she felt she shouldn’t have been so surprised.

And yet, whenever someone mentions ‘I just want to be friends’, it usually means ‘I like you, but I don’t _like_ you’. When he said it, she couldn’t shake the notion that it was ‘I _like_ you, but I don’t like _me’._

Maybe she had been a little rash. Maybe she should have been a little more patient. Though in her mind, and probably other people’s too, her standoffishness was justified. Black had, after all, begun the corruption of her company from the inside, and she was scared that she was going to lose her father’s legacy.

Having said that, she felt justified the previous Friday – and felt royally shit after that.

The coffee dispenser had just finished its obedient task when _Undisclosed Desires_ began to play from her smartphone, and she slid it from the breakfast bar. Anna’s beaming face shone from the screen, and it still had the ability to make Elsa smile. Pressing the _answer_ icon, she slid it under her hair.

“Hey ‘sis.”

_“Hey, is everything okay?”_

Elsa paused for a second, wondering if she should lie or not.

“Everything’s fine. Why?”

_“Punzie and I just saw Jack, and I asked him if he was looking forward to the second date…but he said there wasn’t going to_ be _one. What happened?”_

“He…erm…he said he just wanted to be friends.” Elsa answered, wondering why it was her business.

_“Okay, so? I mean, that tallies with there being no second date, but it doesn’t explain why he looked so pissed off…”_

“What?” Okay, this was new. Elsa didn’t like this ‘new’.

_“Well yeah. I asked him what happened, and he just stormed off saying ‘Ask your sister’.”_

Elsa sighed, and began to recount the meeting down the phone, along with what she said at the end. Anna punctuated it with lots of _uh-huhs_ and _mmhms._ When the elder sister finished, she heard her sister audibly sigh down the phone.

_“Well, as your personal relationship and friendship physician, it is my professional opinion that you were an idiot. In fact, you both were.”_  Anna’s stern voice was not lost along the airwaves, and when the usually bright and bubbly Anna had that voice, something was definitely the matter.

“Excuse me?” Elsa couldn’t help but retort indignantly.

_“ ‘Sis, remember when you came back that night? It took two days for me to get you to talk about your feelings. You’d start a sentence, and then just stop. Like you were trying to say something but couldn’t get it out._ ”

Elsa remembered it well. Anna did not badger her at all, just supplied her with soda and waited patiently. Sometimes one word would be spoken, then silence. Two words, then silence. Eventually, the dam opened and Elsa wept like never before, crying about how in the final three months their father had actually been a father, and then he was gone.

Stuttering, clashing words. Sentences never spoken.

Just like in the coffee house.

_“I take it the silence means you catch my drift. Yes, Rapunzel, I know it’s cold. I’ll be done in a minute.”_

Anna audibly sighed in exasperation, and Elsa could almost see her pinch the bridge of her nose.

_“Look, if all you two have is friendship, that’s cool, but if it matters to you, might be an idea to talk to him. I understand why you got angry, he should too. He did before…but it’s your call.”_

Elsa hesitated briefly, wondering if there was any point. She thanked her sister before hanging up the call, and then navigated the menu to find the _Messages_ screen. Tapping out a few words, she sent off the message and wondered if she would ever get a reply.

* * *

 

Jack had decided not to go to the supermarket after all. For a start, he hadn’t even written a list of the food he needed (or didn’t need), and he didn’t fancy having to wander the aisles several times trying to remember what his kitchen was lacking.

That, and his mind wasn’t exactly working properly.

So, after doing an about-turn while dodging Snowfield Sister Number Two and Whiplash Braid, he was back in his apartment with _Stockholm Syndrome_ blasting through the room, bobbing his head to the rhythm as he studied through the notes from a large red binder hidden under his sofa.  

Music helped him, for some reason. Silence was awkward, like an empty box begging to be filled with words, sounds or melodies. Music filled that box quite admirably, and Jack seemed to have an artist for whatever he was feeling at a given point. Right now, he wanted fast, loud and rhythmic, so the high-tempo riffs and booming bass was perfect.

So far, each of the papers seemed to be in order. Accurate financial reports, cuttings of newspaper articles and printed pages from business blogs, in addition to various articles about people that had been forced to leave employment from their companies, all sorted in date order.

North had sent a message about half an hour ago, asking him to get as much information as he could for a business meeting with Kai Snowfield tomorrow morning, and that he would pick it up along the way. He had also asked how Elsa took the news about just being friends.

Jack didn’t answer the last question.

He leaned back on the sofa, preparing to take a swig of the delicious amber liquid in the whisky glass when a flashing light appeared on his smartphone, currently laid on the coffee table next to the folder. There was no chance of him even _hearing_ the ringtone or feeling the vibration, such was the decibel level blasting out from his sound system.

Picking up the phone, he scanned through the notifications and found a message that he wasn’t sure if he wanted to open. Shrugging, he decided that he might as well.

_New Message (1): From Elsa_

_“Hey, can I call you about earlier? – Elsa x”_

Jack scowled, switched the phone off and tossed it unceremoniously back onto the coffee table.

North would probably tell him he was being a petulant little child, and later on he’d probably agree. Hell, part of him was saying the same thing right now. Elsa did say she had a ‘shitty morning’ so he could sympathise with the outburst, though the last sentence stung a little.

His mother’s best friend Bulda had once said: _“People make bad choices when they’re mad, or scared, or stressed.”_

That was certainly true.

The greater part of him, however, told him to drain the glass and go for a few rounds with the punch-bag in his bedroom to work out some frustration.

Rising from the sofa, he drained the glass in one gulp and closed the red folder, before placing the glass next to it and walking off to the bedroom, cracking his knuckles on the way.

The words _Black Advertising Corporation’s History_ stared up at the ceiling from the folder cover, with a little edge of paper poking out of the top, three words managing to escape the mass of numbers within.

_Overland Winter Sports._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. Jack's a bit fuzzled, Elsa's stressed to hell and it's coming out in ways she doesn't want it to, and Anna's engaged - and about to knock some sense into them both. Anna's just that awesome.
> 
> Next chapter is the day after, and we'll get to see what role Jack will play in the war against Black.
> 
> Peace out, you lovely, crazy people.


	16. A New Ally

Jack's hopes for a lie-in were mercilessly dashed that Thursday morning.

He had intended, after yesterday's events to get drunk, play  _Disney Infinity,_  go to sleep, probably wake up at eleven, play  _Infinity_ some more and then mosey off to his Music minor class…but the message he received at seven thirty in the morning didn't so much scupper that plan, as tie it to a post, stick a cigarette in its mouth and have a firing squad turn it into Swiss cheese.

Like an extremely groggy bear, he unceremoniously sat up in his bed and tried futilely to grasp for the smartphone on his bedside cabinet to kill _Immigrant Song_ , which wasn't doing the new-found headache any favours.

Finally managing to lace his fingers around it, he hammered the standby button and blinked as the bright screen burned into his bleary eyes.

_New Message (1): From Nick_

_"Problem at the workshop, so I can't make the meeting at Fractal Fashion. Need you to go in my place. – Nick"_

Jack tapped out a reply, which he hoped resembled something that could loosely be interpreted as English.

_"Wha? I dunno what u were gona tlak about. – Jack"_

He re-read the message and rolled his eyes. That was horrible even for someone who, a minute ago, was deeply asleep.

_"I guess you just woke up. Just bring your red folder. Also, would it kill you to dress smart? Meeting is at nine. – Nick"_

"Cheeky fucker." grunted Jack, and with a herculean effort he swung his legs out of bed and hobbled like a zombie towards the bathroom. Shower, teeth, coffee, get dressed – in that order, but probably more than one coffee would be needed.

Everything after that was negotiable.

* * *

 

Elsa had received a message too, but unlike Jack she was wide awake at seven thirty, having been up for about an hour. Placing her morning coffee back down on the breakfast bar, with a piece of toast sticking out of her mouth, she pressed the new notification icon.

_New Message (1): From – Kai_

_"Morning, Elsa. Did you sleep well?" – Kai_

Elsa sighed and tapped out a reply.

_"Not really. Why? – Elsa"_

_"There will be a meeting at nine in my office, with a representative from North Pole Toy Industries. I'd like you to be there. – Kai"_

Elsa raised her eyebrows and a little bit of hope swelled inside her. Kai had mentioned that Nicholas St North was a potential ally in the resistance against Black, and a company with North's resources should be a valuable ally indeed.

_"I'll be there. – Elsa"_

She smiled with the fluttering hope that something good would come of this meeting, that this representative would be able to offer advice, tactical knowledge or – if she dared hope – act as a  _white knight_ or at the very least, a  _white squire._

Draining the remains of her coffee, she bustled off toward her bedroom and the  _en suite_ bathroom within, endeavouring to be as smart and clean as she possibly could to make a good impression. She had already decided what she was going to wear; it would be the usual business attire – black trousers and blazer, with a white blouse. French braid, naturally.

This meeting could be a game changer.

* * *

 

Elsa had entered the elevator at eight forty-five, clutching her notes that she had compiled after perusing the stocks market, along with the expenditure reports and the draft plan that Anna had come up with for the exposure party after she returned with Rapunzel.

That is, after about an hour of talking about Jack's lack of reply to her message. Her little sister was convinced that he was just angry, but Elsa was fairly sure that was it. He'd offered friendship, she had shut him out. If it was the other way around, she probably would have reacted the same way.

That is, if she knew a damn thing about him bar the usual small talk stuff.

Checking her messages once more in case he  _did_  reply, she exhaled through her nose when there was nothing.

_Well, that's that I guess._

The elevator doors opened with a happy  _bing_  when she reached the top floor, and following her usual route she reached the frosted glass doors to Kai's office, noting that the representative was already there. He was more than punctual, which was a good thing.

She knocked twice, and Kai's voice called for her to enter. She prepared her brightest smile, and pushed open the door…and then froze as her smile fell to complete surprise.

Jack was sat in one of the chairs opposite Kai, one leg crossed with the left ankle on his right knee, regarding Elsa with an impassive expression.

Kai rose from his desk and flashed a bright, pleased smile, gesturing to Jack who also rose from his seat. He was wearing dark grey smart trousers, a white business shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows, and a dark grey waistcoat.

"Elsa, I'd like to introduce the representative from North Pole Toy Industries, Jackson Overland. Jackson, this is Elsa Snowfield." he said warmly. Jack merely nodded, but Elsa was still too stunned to acknowledge it.

"Miss Snowfield." he said evenly, hands firmly in his pockets. The flat sentence stirred her into action, and she tried to push down the stinging feeling at his stony expression and the emotionless speech. His eyes told the story though; there was still a little anger in the cobalt blue.

"Mr Overland." she said, smiling as she extended a hand. Jack's eyes darted down for a moment as his breath hitched, but he eventually accepted the handshake. Keeping up appearances.

Neither of them was prepared for the tingles that shot through their fingers at the touch, and Jack almost instantly pulled his hand away. For a brief moment, Elsa wanted to blurt out that she was sorry for the snap at the coffee house, but right now it was irrelevant. Summoning the elegant, composed demeanour she had relied on for meetings such as this, she went over and occupied the empty seat as Jack and Kai returned to theirs.

"Mr Overland is visiting to discuss the matter of Black's toe-hold purchase, and possible methods we can utilise to fight, and hopefully beat them."

Elsa nearly missed that, she was having trouble keeping her mind on the ball and  _not_  dwelling on the aftershave that Jack was wearing. It was light and minty, but forced open the sinuses like the first breath of a winter's morning.

_That, and he looks fucking hot in that suit. Dammit Elsa, quit it. Don't start getting even more attracted to the guy that probably hates you right now._

"So, to that end, how can we help?" Kai asked the visitor.

"A few questions first," Jack answered, "and then I can tell you what's going to happen. First, do you have a supermajority amendment?"

"Yes. Seventy-five percent." Kai answered, Jack nodded in acknowledgement. Elsa's gaze was firmly fixed on him. He looked so focused.

"Okay. Majority shareholder?"

"Me. In the event something happens to me, the shares revert to Elsa." Jack nodded once more, raising his eyes to the sky as he assimilated the information.

"You've done all the usual tricks, I guess? Parachute, bees, stuff like that?"

"Yes. Hopefully we'll be able to delay the takeover as long as we can." Jack nodded a final time, before pushing himself up from the seat and walking to the window. Kai and Elsa could see his mind ticking as he stared out at the wintry city below him. Elsa's heart began to thump a little, waiting for the answer to come. It wasn't one that she was expecting.

"You've got four and a half months." Jack stated bluntly, not even looking away from the window.

Kai dropped the pen he was holding while Elsa gasped audibly, and they both went incredibly pale. They knew that there was possibly a finite limit to Fractal Fashion's existence, but for it to be put so matter-of-factly, with an almost definitive timescale?

"H-how do you know?" Elsa whispered, feeling her stomach churn.

Jack turned and regarded her with an expression that was split between cold anger and forlorn sadness, and he strode over to pick up a red folder that was laid by the side of his chair.

"I know, because I've seen it before." he declared, tossing the red folder towards Kai which landed with a thump on his desk, sending the surrounding sheets of paper dangerously close to the edge. Kai looked down with an open mouth, not quite comprehending what Jack meant.

Elsa leaned over to look at the cover, reading the title.

_Black Advertising Corporation's History…_

"That folder contains everything I know about Black Advertising. Ever since…" he trailed off, looking to the side as an pained expression shot across his face, which then disappeared as fast as it came. He didn't continue with that train of thought, and instead jumped ahead a sentence or two.

"Black Advertising is large, intimidating, and pretty much the reason most companies seem to disappear, right?"

Kai nodded.

"They're also completely fucking predictable."

Elsa cocked her head to the side. This was going to be good.

"Black is a sadist. He makes a toe-hold purchase to begin with, and then every week on the same day, he acquires another four percent. It's his way of tormenting the target, making them watch as they slowly die from the inside out. Soon as it gets past fifty percent, the target panics. They start doing crazy things, like  _poison pills_. Some have even used the  _scorched earth_  policy – but that doesn't matter to him. Once it reaches the supermajority amendment – if there  _is_  one – it's all over."

Jack strode over to the chair and alternated his gaze between Kai and Elsa, who were both wide-eyed with shock.

"Every company that has fought Black has lost." he finished, letting the words fall down like a tonne of bricks.

Elsa's mind was swimming. First, Jack was here, and it wasn't helping the feelings in her chest. Second, he had basically given them a definitive date of death. Third, he had quite mercilessly told them that they had no hope.

At least, until he opened his mouth once more.

"That's not going to happen again." he slipped out a growl, sternness in his voice and a fire in his eyes. Elsa's breath caught a little. He seemed so confident, and yet so full of barely concealed fury. She wondered why he was so different now than in the coffee house…a stuttering mess.

"What do you propose?" Kai asked, trying not to cultivate the hope sparking in his heart.

"Give me a week, maybe two. I need to work out some things, to see if we can stay one step ahead of them. Right now…just keep doing what you're doing." he answered.

"Well, Elsa has been working out how to increase our exposure, maybe increase our sales. I think that might help." Kai declared helpfully, as Elsa slid the draft sheet out and passed it to Jack, who accepted it from the polar opposite corner. He studied the words closely, frowning at some points and nodding at others.

"S'good. Good idea. The more profit Fractal Fashion makes, the more your shares are worth. Nice tactic." he agreed, passing the sheet back to her. Elsa couldn't help but feel a swell of pride, even though it was technically Anna's work and not hers.

Jack didn't mention the fact that the more attractive the shares are, the more intent Black will be to buy them. He was risking a sudden surge in acquisitions by assuming Black would be boring enough stick to his sadistic schedule.

He exhaled deeply, in his mind the meeting was over and he had said all that needed to be said. Rising from the chair a little abruptly, causing a flash of confusion on the faces of the CEO and CEO-to-be, he tugged down his waistcoat and prepared to leave.

"If that's all, I need to get working on this." he announced, and Kai rose from his seat in acknowledgement. Elsa rose too, trying to work out where this new side to Jack had come from.

Eschewing the customary handshake in favour of a polite nod to the both of them, Jack turned and was about to make a quick exit when Kai's voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Mr Overland? Your folder?" he gestured down to the wealth of information on his desk.

"Keep it. You need it more than I do." Jack answered evenly, and without another word he exited the room. Both Kai and Elsa watched as the door slowly shut on itself, wondering what the hell just happened.

"He's an odd man." Kai stated, starting to flick through the folder.

"You have no idea…" Elsa replied, her eyes still on the shrinking blurry form of Jack as he rounded the corner toward the elevator. She turned to Kai, still keeping her sight where it was.

"Go." he said, aware that Elsa couldn't see him smiling in amusement. Not needing to be told twice, Elsa swiftly rose from her seat and strode through the door to catch up.

* * *

 

There was a free-for-all tournament in Jack's mind, as he rounded the corner toward the elevator.

Black's first move was predictable enough – a poison dart to slowly kill the victim. What Jack could not predict was exactly  _how_  he would acquire the shares. Prior to Elsa's arrival, Kai had informed him that the company was not private but public, however the shares were mostly held by employees of the company, along with the board of directors and senior management. In a sense, it was a pseudo-private firm, but that would make Black's tactics all the more insidious.

If the shares were not openly available, then Southernisle and Weselton would come into play…and that was a  _very_  bad thing. The right-hand firm of Black Advertising was nefarious and dangerous, like patches of black ice on a snowy road. They operated almost exclusively behind the scenes and Jack was convinced they were guilty of breaking countless laws in their execution of stock acquisition. The problem was; no-one could ever prove it, because they were too scared.

Fear is a powerful motivator.

As he entered the elevator, the other thought that crossed his mind – along with setting off butterflies in his stomach – was Elsa's surprise appearance at the meeting. As far as he knew, the meeting was just with Kai, though it made sense that as the heir, Elsa would be present. He wasn't quite prepared for how striking she looked, in her business suit with that  _damn_  braid, and that  _damn_ immaculate make-up…and in a more rude thought, the way the twin bulges in her chest rose and fell with each breath.

It had made him wish that he wasn't so fucked in the head, and was a completely normal person, so they could be  _more_  than friends. He was attracted to her, no doubt about it.

Alas, until he sorted himself out it was better off that things were cordial, if not friendly between them. He had only been on the medication for a few days and it would take at  _least_  a week before the effects were noticeable. Maybe then he could entertain the idea, if she had not already found someone else.

Maybe then he could decide whether or not to let her in.

_Hah. Christmas Day is in less than two weeks. That's a fucking laugh._

He had just pressed the first floor button when a voice that he wasn't sure he wanted to hear rang out from the corridor ahead, and briefly he considered hammering the  _Close Door_  button.

"Hold the elevator, please!"

Obliging, he held his arm between the doors as Elsa swiftly rounded the corner, air rushing after her with the speed she had been striding with and her airy, breezy perfume trailing after that. Jack couldn't help but let some of it invade his senses, and for a moment it made his heart skip a beat.

"Thanks, Jack." she said breathlessly, as she turned around and reorganised her blazer. Jack kept his gaze firmly locked on the elevator doors as they closed, and remarked silently upon the hilariously scary thought that he was trapped.

In a confined space.

With his anxiety.

And the woman who possessed a smile that set both it and his heart aflutter.

_Hell in an elevator. Burning me up when I'm goin' down._

He felt the elevator walls starting to close in on him, so he fell back on the businessman exterior that he had utilised during the meeting, the mask that served him very well indeed. It was a useful mask, a façade to hide behind…so maybe it would stymie the rising panic inside him. It seemed to surprise the hell out of Elsa, which he noted with dark amusement.

Awkward silence reigned briefly within the elevator as it began to move, until Elsa broke it with one of her impeccably accurate questions.

"You didn't respond to my message yesterday."

"I didn't see the point. You pretty much made yourself clear in the coffee house." he answered, trying to hide the slight bitterness in his voice.

"Jack, I was calling to say sorry for what I said. I didn't mean it, I just had a bad morning and-" she began, but Jack cut her off with an exasperated sigh, pinching his nose as the walls began to put up more of a fight.

"Look, I get it. You were stressed, and I wasn't exactly a good conversationalist. It's fine. I'm over it." he explained, feeling the need to end that particular topic there and then.

"Thanks for understanding, Jack. Means a lot." Elsa smiled, gripping the handbag straps as she shuffled a millimetre towards him. She was kind of hoping he would look at her. See those eyes without the anger.

"Yeah, well, I've seen a lot of shit happen." Jack answered noncommittally, condensing the truth to the simplest form as he kept his gaze on the door, briefly looking up at the floor level indicator.

_Thirty-first floor. Christ. Taking bets on whether I'll be a wreck when we get to the first floor._

The silence returned, though it was punctuated by the nervous tapping of Jack's right fingers against his leg. His heart was beginning to race now, as he heard the quiet  _thum-thum_ in his ears begin to speed up. He was also starting to get a  _little_  light-headed, whether from the company or the situation, he didn't know, but he extended an arm to the closest wall to steady himself in case. Casually, of course.

"Listen, are you free this afternoon? We could go get a coffee. You know, as friends of course. Talk about what went on in the meeting." Elsa asked hopefully. Her heart was beginning to beat a little faster, but it was  _not_  due to anxiety.

"Sorry, can't. College thing." he answered.

"Oh, okay then." Elsa replied, trying to shrug off the disappointment. Jack felt a sudden surge in his chest, which then shot up through his throat and out of his mouth before he even noticed. It might have been due to either the urge to tell her, or the feeling that the elevator was closing in around him and screwing with his head, but the words were free before he even knew he had spoken them.

"I might as well come out with it now, because I don't think I will be able to after those doors open and I get the fuck out of here." he blurted, and then turned to fix Elsa with a gaze that she couldn't quite categorise. Whatever it was, the sudden head movement combined with those  _damn_  eyes caught her breath.

"I've got anxiety issues. Lots of 'em. Used to be just random light-headedness, but for some reason since I met you it's been a helluva lot stronger. After our date, I pretty much had a full-on attack. Since then, I've been taking medication so I can sort myself out, but until then I'm probably the worst date ever. That's pretty much what I was trying to say yesterday."

He exhaled deeply, feeling a little weight escape with the breath and looked down at the floor, wondering why the hell that came out.

_Pretty much because you wanted it to, moron. Twentieth floor, by the way._

"I understand," Elsa smiled, "I used to have the same thing, so thank you for telling me."

Jack returned his gaze to her and cocked his head, prompting Elsa to nod slightly in acknowledgement of his mild surprise.

"I'll tell you about it another time. Can I ask though, how many people know about your issues?"

Jack flexed his jaw a little, wondering if he should answer. For some odd reason, Aster's voice popped into his head without warning, dispensing yet more annoying sage-like wisdom.

_In for a penny, mate. You already blabbed about your anxiety, so you might as well go the whole hog, ya gumby._

"Just you and Nick. No-one else." he answered, the last three words coming out as less of a statement, and more of a subtle hint. Elsa got the message loud and clear, even doing a little mock-salute with two fingers to her forehead…but then she remembered something.

"Actually, Anna kind of does…" she muttered. Jack's eyes narrowed, wondering what the hell she meant. Elsa hastened to clarify; she didn't want him to flip out in such a confined space.

"My sister is...perceptive. Incredibly, and annoyingly perceptive. She remembered you mentioning anxiety issues on Monday, and basically put two and two together when I told her about the coffee house. I tell you, when she gets her stern head on, you know when you've fucked up."

Jack raised his eyebrows, and a half-smile crept up on his lips.

"I know the feeling." he said, a faraway look appearing on his face.

_My Sophie was exactly the same._

Whether it was due to him finally being able to explain his behaviour in The Orient Espresso, or the fact that he and Elsa had reached an understanding, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that the elevator no longer felt like the trash compactor in  _Star Wars: A New Hope._

_If it was, I would totally be Han. Luke nearly drowns._

* * *

 

She didn't blame Jack for his lightning-fast exit from the elevator. After he had basically told her that she made him very,  _very_ anxious, along with the fact that it was a tiny box with no way out, it stood to reason that he would get out of dodge as soon as he could.

It didn't stop the sudden feeling that something was missing, though. The little space in your chest when something is there one minute, and gone the next.

There was one thought that perplexed her a little, though. Kai had said that there was a  _representative_  of North Pole Toy Industries, and while she did  _not_  expect that it would be Jack, something he said hung in the back of her mind, like a half-solved Rubik's cube left on the kitchen table.

_'Give me a week, maybe two.'_

_'I need to work out some things to see if we…'_

_"I've seen it before.'_

Not once did he speak for the company, did he say 'On behalf of North Pole-'. It was always in the first-person. It seemed  _personal_  for him. Did he have a vendetta, or something? Did he have a vested interest in helping Fractal Fashion survive?

And yet, he seemed to have a plan. Almost like he had prepared for it, and Elsa felt far more confident in the company's chances as a result.

Climbing over the door into her Cadillac, the muffled sound of  _Stockholm Syndrome_  rang out from her bag. She stuck the car keys into the ignition to free her other hand, and dove into her handbag to retrieve the smartphone and peruse the text message that had just arrived.

_New Message (1): From – Anna_

_"Hey, can you pick me up from home? Mr Ebert wants to see me in college. Also, could you be with me? Kinda nervous. – Anna"_

Elsa chuckled. She didn't mind being Anna's personal taxi service on occasion, and it seemed this could be quite important.

_"Sure. Be there in ten. – Elsa"_

She nearly replaced the phone back into her handbag, before a warm, mischievous thought crossed her mind. Navigating back into the messages menu, she tapped out a message and giggled as she pressed  _Send_ , wondering how it would be received.

_"Friendly opinion, but FYI, there aren't enough cold showers in the world for that suit. – Elsa x"_

She felt herself blush, taking dark pleasure in using his words against him…but then she had a panicking thought. What if he was driving, read the message, and then had an attack? What if she just caused an accident?

Her eyes went wide and she raised a hand to her mouth. No, she was overthinking it. Wasn't she?

The first few bars of  _Stockholm Syndrome_ rang out from her phone once more, and she hastily hit the notification in case something terrible had happened. The content of the message however, gave her an instant small sigh of relief.

_"I see what you did there. – Jack."_

* * *

 

"I'm kinda worried, 'sis." Anna whimpered as they traversed the corridors towards the  _Movie Studies_  lecture hall, the  _click clack_  of Elsa's heels doing little to ease her little sister's worries. Elsa shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around Anna's shoulder, holding her close with a comforting tightness.

"I'm sure it's something good, Anna. Don't stress." Elsa soothed, trying to smooth out the spiking tension in her sister's being.

"But what if it isn't? Ebert hates plagiarism! What if I accidentally copied some other movie? What if-" Anna began to ramble in a panic, so Elsa mercilessly cut her off.

" 'Sis. Shut up." she chuckled teasingly. Anna shot her a scowl.

"Well, someone's feisty today. Did they meet their quota of terrified baristas?" she drawled sardonically.

"Hah! You're so funny!" Elsa rapped her sister's shoulder, a sarcastic tone to her voice. "I'll tell you about it after Ebert. Seeing as he's…you know…right over there and all."

Elsa was right, her sister's lecturer Mr Ebert was waiting patiently outside his lecture hall, wearing a smart suit, with a white shirt and a red tie. He regarded Anna with a studious expression, as though she was a movie to be critiqued.

"Miss Snowfield, and Miss Snowfield." he acknowledged, gesturing into the lecture hall. Both sisters smiled at him as they passed into the huge room, noticing the projector fixed to the ceiling above playing what looked like  _It's A Wonderful Life_ onto a massive screen. Mr Ebert flicked a remote, and the sisters watched the volume indicator shrink into nothingness.

"Right, Miss Snowfield, I called you here to discuss your screenplay. Now, I had asked people to merely write the  _beginning_ , but as you've gone above and beyond the call of duty and written the entire thing, I felt it warranted a face-to-face talk."

Anna shuffled on her feet. Ebert always had an impassive expression, she never quite knew what he was about to say until he said it.

"Aside from the fact that it's a very, very good piece, the fact that you managed to write a solid plot, interesting characters and a fantastic setting has, quite honestly, fascinated me. In particular, the inclusion of-"

_Oh shit. Elsa's gonna hear all about it. Hope she's not mad._

"-the sisterly bond between the ice queen and her little sibling was a nice touch."

Elsa shot her a look that was torn between half-amused and half-offended. Write what you know, indeed. Anna returned it with a sheepish look, red creeping into her cheeks.

"So, therefore I have decided to skip Friday's announcement and inform you that I have sent your screenplay to Disney. Congratulations!"

Anna's eyes went wide and her jaw dropped to the floor, shattering into a million pieces. She raised her hand to her chest, and practically began to vibrate, prompting Elsa and Mr Ebert to step away slightly in fear of being caught in the ensuing explosion.

"OH. MY. GOD!" she squeaked, brimming with flammable enthusiasm and glee. And without another word, she turned on her heels and shot out of the room, high-pitched squeals pealing from her mouth as she ran.

Elsa and Mr Ebert followed her disappearance with incredulous expressions, before Elsa muttered something, trying in vain to somehow explain her sister's random behaviour.

"That's…kind of a thing with her."

"So I see." Mr Ebert replied, unable to think of anything else.

* * *

 

"I can't believe it! Disney has got my screenplay! OH MY GOD!" Anna squealed once more, jumping up and down as they walked to the cafeteria. There was no way in hell Elsa was going to let Anna in the car, she didn't think the suspension would hold up to her relentless bouncing. Therefore, a wind down drink was needed.

"Hold your horses, 'sis. They've still got to  _like_  it first." Elsa reminded. Her sister's exuberant joy was incredibly infectious and strong, but so would the crushing sadness if it was rejected. Anna scowled at her elder sibling.

"Way to rain on my parade, Ice Queen." Anna retorted, earning herself a playful slap on the arm, but Elsa followed it up with a warm, sisterly hug.

"I'm proud of you, Anna. Well done." she whispered. Anna tightened the embrace in response.

"You're not angry about…" she began, but trailed off when a look in Elsa's eyes told her she was on the same wavelength. Sisterly bonds, at their best.

"No, Anna. Like Mama said, write what you know. Hell, with our family history, you've got enough for a  _trilogy._ " Elsa smiled reassuringly. Anna flashed a warm, bright smile, and then furrowed her brows as  _Stockholm Syndrome_ once again reached their ears.

"Is that your phone?"

Elsa went into her handbag, pressing the standby button as she pulled it out. She frowned when the notifications section regretfully informed her that there was nothing new to see.

"Nope….hmm. Now I'm curious." Elsa raised an eyebrow, glancing up and down the corridor. She winced slightly when whoever was playing the opening riffs hit a bum note.

"Yikes.  _Definitely_  not me." she chuckled, and following their curiosity they walked in the direction of the floating sound, and as they closed in on the Music rooms, they began to hear angry curses whenever the unknown guitarist messed up.

* * *

 

Jack wasn't aware of the sisters' appearance at the door, and  _completely_  oblivious to the slight snickers every time he hit the wrong note.

He had skipped to the 'solo' part, but every time he got so far in, his fingers would forget the correct placement and screw up the entire thing, so he'd have to start again…and fucked up notes sounded horrible when distorted through an amp.

"Fuck!" he snarled, for something like the eighteenth time.

In all fairness to him, he was trying to jump back into playing guitar after three years of never touching one, and it was only due to him memorising the chords once upon a time that he was able to do as well as he was doing. It was his own silly fault, logic would dictate that he start from the ground up. Re-learn to ride the bicycle, as it were.

That, and his attention was solely focused out of the window. Staring through the glass, he watched a man with slicked black hair and a hawkish face engage in a conversation with another man, this one with red hair and stupidly long sideburns. Sat on one of the benches that were dotted around the outdoor area of the college, they tried too hard to appear inconspicuous, thereby sticking out like a sore thumb.

He felt an unwelcome sensation in his stomach as the red-haired man handed over a bottle of liquid to the black-haired man, and that feeling only intensified when the recipient smirked maliciously, pocketed the unknown liquid and strode off.

He seemed so familiar...as though from a dream long ago.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look, Ma! I made an Aerosmith pun!


	17. The Longest Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things.
> 
> 1\. This chapter is why I have the rating set to Mature. If you're reading this and you're under that rating, consider yourselves warned to skip this chapter. If you're not, and you're distressed by something you read, don't say I didn't warn you. Because I did.
> 
> 2\. This is a trigger warning for sexual assault. If anyone was unfortunate enough to be a recipient of such an evil act, and you are worried that it will set something off, skip this chapter and I will do my best to have the next one up in short order.
> 
> 3\. This one is over 8000 words long, pretty much because there wasn't really a point that I could have comfortably cut off the chapter without snapping the narrative.

Anna’s exuberance carried on throughout the day before and well into the Saturday, and it was getting to the point that Elsa was _seriously_ considering slipping some Valium into her coffee. Whenever she would be overcome by fits of bouncing glee, it would infect Rapunzel like a particularly aggressive virus. Then there would be two bouncing balls of joy in the house.

And oddly enough, Eugene would start to do it as well. Elsa was about a hair’s breadth from escaping from the house before she too was overcome.

Not that she wasn’t happy for her, because she was absolutely over the moon. What worried her was that if Disney did like the screenplay, chances are they would fly her over for a week or two so they could fine tune it, talk about casting, director choices and all the stuff that comes with making movies.

And with Rapunzel and Eugene returning to Corona tomorrow, the house would be decidedly empty.

_Although…you could hang out with Jack…_

Elsa was sat at the breakfast bar with her laptop, reading through the emails that Kai had sent over, which included some interesting segments from the information Jack had given to Kai. One attachment was a scan of a report on a winter sports company that bore Jack’s surname. The email had been entitled _‘I think you’ll find this interesting’,_ and Elsa was just about to click on the attachment when a pair of hands landed roughly on her shoulder and made her jump _at least_ a foot from the chair.

“Jeez!” she exclaimed in shock, resting a hand on her chest as it rapidly rose and fell. She turned and shot a glare at the instigator of her fright, and found she was glaring at her sister’s beaming face.

“Gotcha! Revenge is mine!” she cackled, before victoriously running into the living room.

“Anna, if we don’t find a way to release the glee pressure building up inside you, I swear to God I’m going to beat you with Punzie’s frying pan.” Elsa threatened, narrowing her eyes. Anna snickered, but her face then went wide as, quite possibly, the country’s worth of light-bulbs popped over her head.

“I got it! Let’s go out tonight to celebrate, go hit Valley of the Living Beats!” she exclaimed like it was the _best idea ever!_

“Well, I don’t know-”

“Somebody mention going out tonight?” Rapunzel piped up, apparently utilising the same stealth technology that Anna did.

“Yeah, Anna just-” Elsa began, but soon realised she shouldn’t have bothered.

“I _love_ this plan!” Eugene then added, popping up behind Rapunzel. Elsa was bewildered. Did everyone but her seem to possess invisibility cloaks?  

“Whatdaya think, Elsie? Paint the town red and all that jazz? C’mon, it’ll be fun!” Anna grinned, an almost pleading tone to her voice.

“I don’t know…” Elsa frowned. She _really_ wanted to read those emails.

“You could ask Ja-ack…” Rapunzel teased. Elsa vetoed the motion at that.

“Jack won’t go for it. Trust me.” she replied flatly. Anna took on a challenged expression. The gauntlet had been thrown. Elsa had figuratively slapped her across the cheek with a white cotton glove.

“Challenge accepted.” she stated, and signalled a wink to Rapunzel. The brown-haired heir, with her characteristic lightning reflexes stole Elsa’s phone from the breakfast bar and tossed it to Anna. In one fluid movement, Anna pulled out her own phone from her cardigan and coped Jack’s number to her own phonebook. Elsa just shook her head incredulously, and with a little bit of awe.

She couldn’t escape the idea that Anna and Rapunzel had been practising that manoeuvre.

Anna tapped out a message to Jack’s number and sent it on its way, hoping for a reply. If he didn’t, then Elsa was right, and she would have to go to Phase Two. If he did reply…then she might go to Phase Two for the hell of it.

_“Hey Jack! It’s Anna. Me, Elsa, Rapunzel and her bf Eugene are going out tonight to celebrate. Wanna come? – Anna xox”_

Silent glances were exchanged across the room between the occupants. Elsa figured Jack wouldn’t be interested…but she still had hope. So, like everyone else, her breathing was tense and anticipatory.

Anna practically jumped when her phone vibrated back to her, and she scrambled to find the reply.

_“What are you celebrating? – Jack”_

_“My screenplay got sent to Disney! Hope they’ll like it! You didn’t answer my question though. – Anna xox”_

Silence once more, though the fact that Jack replied held a little optimistic hope.

_“I don’t think that’s a good idea, but thanks anyway. Congratulations on the screenplay, you deserve it. – Jack”_

“Oh, no you don’t.” Anna hissed, the challenged expression returning to her exuberant features. She tapped out a reply, making Elsa grimace as she nearly put her finger through the screen with each letter.

_“Thanks! Come on, you know you want to. Elsa will be there! And if you say no, I’ma have to go to Phase Two. – Anna xox”_

“Trust me, Mr Overland. You do _not_ want me to go Phase Two all up in yo’ ass.” she threatened, as if he could hear her.

_“Do I want to know what that is? – Jack”_

_“Phase Two is where I find out where you live. Because I can do that. I am Anna Snowfield. And I am AWESOME. – Anna xox”_

It was a good few minutes before Jack replied again, where Rapunzel and Eugene had stared at Anna as though they were engrossed in a particularly riveting movie, whereas Elsa decided to make use of the time by giving the coffee dispenser another reason to exist.

_“Can I think about it at least? – Jack”_

Anna squealed and bounced up and down once more, nearly missing each letter as she tapped a victorious reply.

_“That’s all I ask! Valley of the Living Beats. 9pm. See you there! – Anna xox”_

Turning to Elsa with a smug smirk, she pranced over and proudly showed her the conversation, noting with pleasure the widening of Elsa’s eyes as she read each message.

“You…actually…got him to think about it?”

“Yup!” Anna beamed, “I’m just that good!”

Even Elsa couldn’t suppress the warm smile that was creeping up her cheek nor the ache that appeared in her chest.

“Right,” Rapunzel clapped her hands together, “we’ve got four hours. That’s two hours for some clothes shopping, two hours to get ready. Let’s move!”

 

* * *

 

 

Staring out of the window in his penthouse apartment at the stunning wintry scene of Arendelle City, Pritchard Black was reminded of a quote from his idol Frank Underwood.

_“Money is the Mc-mansion in Sarasota that starts falling apart after ten years. Power is the old stone building that stands for centuries.”_

Truer words, in his mind, were never spoken. Money is fleeting and ephemeral, but power? That was built to last. When you combine the two, then you have a weapon over the minds and hearts of the public. Then you have power over their wallet, and their will.

Just like Pritchard had power over the blonde that was knelt in front of him, her head bobbing backwards and forwards, providing services in exchange for cash.

A vibration in his pocket alerted him to a call, and as he plucked the phone from his trousers, the blonde paused suddenly.

“I did not tell you to stop.” he growled, the heavy weight of a threat infecting his words like a pernicious shadow. The blonde resumed, though with a little more agitation. Pritchard raised the phone to his ear, and raised his eyebrows as the voice of Hans radiated from the speaker.

“This had better be important.”

“Word on the street is that the Snowfield sisters are going to the Valley in a few hours.” Hans clarified. Pritchard smiled a malevolent, toothy smile as his eyes fell on the bottle of liquid, which sat on the coffee table near the window.

“Well, that changes things. I’ll meet you there at nine.” he ordered, and without another thought hung up the call. He bent down to hook a hand under the blonde’s right shoulder, roughly pulling her up and holding her in place. Staring with a predatory expression into her quailing eyes, he pulled out a few dollar bills from his other pocket and slowly extended them over to her. She tried to snatch them away, but he jerked his hand back with a smirk.

“Next time, wear a French braid.” he demanded, letting her take the dollar bills. His grip loosened enough for her to slip out of his hands and she quickly exited the apartment, nursing an angry red mark on her upper right arm.

_Sometimes, my power must be imposed._

 

* * *

 

 

 Since the text message from Anna – he would have to have a word with her about getting hold of his number like that – Jack had spent most of the evening up until nine-thirty wondering what the hell he was going to do.

He had learned from the last time he jumped into something without thinking, so he wisely gave himself a get-out clause. Just in case. Tossing a ball from one hand to the other, he paced his apartment from the living room to the kitchen, occasionally stopping to bounce the small ball off the floor and catch it.

Unfortunately, when someone thinks too hard they end up drowning in a maelstrom of what-ifs and maybes, pulling them even further from the elusive decision they seek. Jack was furiously paddling away from the metaphorical whirlpool, no doubt about it.

_This is a bit crazy. What the hell do I do?_

He revolved in the living room once more, and turned to face the kitchen. He only made a few steps when his eyes fell upon his smartphone sat patiently on the breakfast bar. Striding forward, he snatched it up and began to type out a message.

_“I don’t think I can make it. Sorry. Have fun. – Jack”_

The words were there and ready to be sent out, but for some reason he couldn’t bring himself to press the _Send_ button. Flashes of Elsa’s disappointed face, along with Anna’s stern, angry visage when she would eventually hammer down his front door danced across his mind.

So he deleted it, and typed out a new message to a _different_ recipient.

_“I need some advice. – Jack”_

He didn’t have to wait long for the reply.

_“Call me. – Nick”_

Jack hesitated a moment, he preferred to go by the medium of instant messaging for the inherent relative anonymity, but a voice in the back of his mind suggested that a call might be better. There’s only so much you can type, after all. Pressing the _Call Recipient_ icon, he decided to put it on speaker and place it back on the breakfast bar so he could resume pacing. After a couple of rings, North picked up.

_“So, Jack. I have a few minutes to spare before I drop the factory manager in the packaging machine, but I’ll always have time for you. What’s on your mind?”_

“I…erm…was asked by Elsa’s sister Anna if I wanted to join them at the local nightclub.” he answered slightly lamely.

 _“Okay. How do you feel about it?”_ was his simple reply.

“I…actually kinda want to go…” Jack answered, scratching the back of his head in a nervous manner. What came next replaced the nervousness with surprise.

_“Then go.”_

“Wait, what? I thought you said I had to take it easy!” Jack said incredulously, stunned at North’s answer.

_“I said nothing of the sort. What I said was that you should continue as friends until you are better. As you have been on your medication since Monday, and you’re just approaching this from a friendship standpoint, I see no reason for you to remain home.”_

“But…”

_“Jack, listen to me. When you dwell too long on the possibilities of the future, you miss out on the here and now. If your anxiety becomes an issue, simply step outside of the club until you recover. Catch my drift?”_

“I guess…”

_“Good. I would suggest a shower, though, and Jack?”_

“Yeah?”

_“I’m proud of you.”_

Jack felt a rush of warmth shoot through his body at that unexpected remark. He felt a little comforted knowing that he could rely on North to steer him straight. Thanking his godfather, he ended the call and tossed the ball behind him, placing hands on his hips as it bounced harmlessly off the coffee table and probably disappeared under the sofa. Galvanised, he took a deep breath and nodded to himself.

“I can do this.” he declared, and switching on the music system to full blast, Queen’s _Don’t Stop Me Now_ blasted out from the speakers as he strode off towards the shower.

_Et tu, Freddie?_

 

* * *

 

 

“What’s a pretty little thing like you doing alone?”

Elsa rolled her eyes. This had to be the _third_ time someone had tried to hit on her since the gang had arrived. Anna had spent about twenty minutes at their little table before dragging Kristoff to the dance floor, and Rapunzel and Eugene had been dancing since they arrived. This had left Elsa alone, tracing her slender finger around the rim of her glass of mojito, chin in her hand and looking decidedly bored. And a little jealous.

“None of your business.” she responded tersely, keeping her eyes away from the unwelcome visitor.

“Aw, c’mon,” he continued in a voice that was _supposed_ to sound husky, “My name’s Rick. Can I sit?”

The intruder known as Rick didn’t wait for Elsa to respond before he took the stool closest to her, forcing her to shuffle her own stool away from him. Continuing the ignorance that Elsa hated about most men, he kept talking to her.

“So, you didn’t answer my question. What’s a pretty-”

“Waiting for my boyfriend.” Elsa cut him off, before his voice made her any more nauseous. Like a particularly irritating bout of the flu, he didn’t take the hint. It was the best bullshit she could think of.

“Well, I don’t see him. Who is the lucky guy?” he teased, poking at the lie. Elsa, however, straightened up as a wide beam shot across her face, and she pointed over to the main doors of the club.

 _“Him.”_ she announced happily, as she rose from the stool and strode off in that direction.

Jack had literally just walked through the main doors into the club, wearing the same clothes that he wore for the business meeting on Wednesday – with the addition of a rather fancy tie – and a mildly apprehensive expression on his face. He scanned the partygoers for a familiar person, and his eyes locked onto a wide grin walking towards him.

He barely had time to smile before Elsa had already wrapped her arms around him, turning the flutters in his stomach into a full-blown storm of butterflies. It was so out-of-the-blue, it threatened to permanently stop his breathing and the beating of his heart. The scent of her perfume shot up his nose, and in one hell of a contradiction, stirred his mind into action whilst simultaneously making him slightly light-headed.

Remembering that the usual response to a hug is to put ones arms around the hugger, he gently placed his hands on her back and heard an audible hitching of breath.

And it felt so god damn sweet.

“I’m really sorry about this,” she whispered into his ear, having trouble thinking straight with the scent of his aftershave overwhelming her senses, “but do you see that guy over there, probably looking at us?”

“I see him.” Jack growled.

“He’s been trying to hit on me since before you arrived, and he won’t leave me alone. I…kinda told him you were my boyfriend.” she groaned, feeling him tense noticeably, and the gentle embrace becoming a little tighter. She’d be lying if she said it didn’t turn the warm sensation in her face and chest a whole lot hotter.

“Okay.” he said, catching her drift.

Rick sauntered over to the pair and flashed Jack a smile as Elsa loosened her embrace, turning to stand by his side. There was yet another moment where Jack stole her breath as he placed an arm around her back, resting it on her right hip. Her eyes darted between Jack’s decidedly unimpressed – and a little enraged – stare, and Rick who was trying very hard to appear confident in the face of such a withering glare.

“Hi! I’m-” he began, but Jack cut him off.

“Leaving.” he snarled.

“What did you say to me?” Rick scowled, his voice taking on a threatening tone. He was slightly bigger and wider than Jack and used the difference to square up to him, but the ‘boyfriend’ did not back down. Rather, he clenched his fist and turned his snarl into a vengeful growl.

“You heard me. Hit on my girlfriend again, and the only thing _you’ll_ be picking up will be your own fucking teeth. _Clear?_ ”

Elsa bit her lip at the ‘G’ word while Rick opened his mouth a few times to retort, but the _‘Please, give me a reason’_ expression on Jack’s face made him back down, and disappear out of the club.

Jack exhaled deeply, taking deep breaths to try and control the anxiety that had started to rise. Of all the things he expected when arriving, a warm embrace – even if it _was_ to maintain a pretence – and staring down a random club-goer was not high on that list.

Still, being referred to as a ‘boyfriend’ was a novel concept for someone who was supposed to be just a friend.

“Are you okay?”

Jack’s eyes snapped to the right and rested upon Elsa’s concerned face. He was momentarily confused as her head seemed to be higher than his, until he realised that he had his left hand on his knee, and was bent over akin to a recovering marathon runner. Quickly attempting to calm his breathing, he straightened up and tried to flash a reassuring half-smile,

“Couple of drinks and fewer scumbags, I’ll be alright. What about you?”

“Me? I’m awesome. Thank you for that. I’m sorry if I’ve set your anxiety off.” she said, looking away with a regretful expression.

“Actually…for some reason, I’m not freaking out as much. Progress, huh?” Jack chuckled. Elsa’s eyes went back to him as she flashed him a warm smile, sliding his hand from her hip and squeezing it in support.

He wasn’t wrong. In fact, the only time his social panic levels were rising were when he was staring down the denim oaf five minutes ago. Strangely, the hug and lingering touch of her hips wasn’t doing _too_ much damage. He didn’t dare put that to the test, though.

_Freak out in a public place? Nuh-uh. Noooo sir._

“So, what’re you having?” Elsa asked, gesturing to the bar. Jack was about to request his customary drink, before he remembered that outside of Nick’s place, the only DunBroch whisky to be found was in his apartment.

“Am I to be anyone’s designated driver?” he narrowed his eyes. Elsa shook her head.

“Then a double JD and coke.” he requested. Elsa nodded with a smile as she walked off to place the order, while Jack stood within a few metres in case he needed to play boyfriend again, though he couldn’t resist seeing what she was wearing now that he had the opportunity.

Her hair in an impeccable French braid, it trailed down her spine over a black off-the-shoulder, sweetheart bust-line Bardot dress, perfectly accentuating the curves of her slender frame as it went down, ending halfway between her hips and thighs.

In a moment of light-headed, strong appreciation, Jack thought that she looked absolutely stunning.

_There’s something missing, though. She’s not wearing a pendant. I’m gonna write that down._

“I really didn’t mean to put you on the spot like that.” Elsa said, having paid for and reappeared with the drinks before Jack had even noticed she moved. Jack looked up at her with a ‘buh?’ expression, before his brain re-engaged with a galvanising shake of the head as he took his drink.

“I’ll get over it,” he waved it off, once he was back in the land of the not-perving, “I’m just glad I could help.”

“And you do a lot of that, for someone who tries to be aloof to everyone.” she smiled wryly. Jack rolled his eyes, but felt heat rise in his cheeks. She was right, he hadn’t noticed but he was doing an awful lot of _not_ keeping the world at bay. Hell, he was in a _nightclub_ , right now.

“That’s true.”

“And you also called me your girlfriend.” she added, half-teasing half-flirting. This friendship crap was going to be harder than either of them thought. _Much_ harder.

“Heh. Noticed that, did you?” Jack half-smiled, stealing a glance out of the corner of his eye as they occupied the stools. Elsa looked away shyly, trying to hide the grin by sipping from her brand new mojito.

They couldn’t dwell on it for long, as the rest of the gang – with impeccable timing – returned from the dancefloor. Anna had her hand firmly entwined with Kristoff’s, while Rapunzel had her arms wrapped around Eugene’s waist as he rested a protective arm over her shoulder. Both couples looked completely and utterly besotted with each other, and it gave off an aura of romance around the table as they sat.

“So you _did_ come? Better late than never! Means I don’t have to go all Phase Two on you.” Anna grinned, sipping her rum and coke. Jack raised his eyebrows.

“Yeah,” Kristoff added, “she kept saying she was gonna find you and beat you up.” Anna rapped his arm – _“Shhh! You weren’t supposed to tell him that!”_

“Oh really? Well, maybe you should have beaten up the guy who kept trying to hit on your sister.” Jack fired back, a half-smile taking the edge off the ever-so-slightly scathing retort. Anna’s eyes went wide and she snapped her head to Elsa, mouthing the word _‘What?!’_

Elsa chuckled and recounted the events of Jack’s arrival, from the hug to the moment Rick scampered off including, word for word, Jack’s threat. Anna, as per usual, was more interested on the boyfriend/girlfriend remark than anything, but Kristoff held up his glass as a salute.

“Wow, you sounded like Raylan Givens with that threat.” he grinned wryly. Jack nodded in agreement.

“S’kinda what I was going for.”

“Raymond whoohaa?” Rapunzel frowned, not following.

“ _Justified.”_ said all three men at the table simultaneously. “Totally awesome show, you should watch it.” Eugene added.

 

* * *

 

 

Fifteen minutes in to the conversation, and it was going better than Jack could have hoped. He had been engaging in rudimentary conversation with everyone, mostly answering questions or offering opinions, but never really instigating any topics. Reactive, as opposed to proactive. It didn’t matter, because for the first time in a long time, he was having something that could loosely be defined, in his terms, as _fun_.

Not on his own, drinking glass after glass of whisky and playing _Infinity_ , or drawing picture after picture, but actually interacting with the outside world. He never thought things would happen this way. As always, the third wheel was his anxiety, but through the build-up of medication in his system and the presence of Elsa by his side, along with the ability to get out of there if he needed to, everything seemed to be on an even keel. It was almost too good to be true.

“Hey, why did you call me _Whiplash Braid?”_ Rapunzel had asked him, which surprised him a little.

“Um, near the end of the first semester, you were going down the stairs from Vidal’s hall. Eugene called your name from behind you, and you basically turned too quick. Your braid smacked some poor fucker in the face and nearly knocked him over.”

The table burst into raucous laughter, forcing Rapunzel to blush furiously in shame. Eugene nodded vigorously in tears of laughter, pointing at Jack as if to say _“That’s exactly how it happened!”_

“I don’t remember that…”

“Neither does the other guy.” Eugene snarked, still fending off fits of giggles.

 

* * *

 

 

After a few hours – and several drinks – the mood was decidedly merry. Anna, Rapunzel and Eugene were definitely starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, the vibrant lights and the loud music, while Jack, Elsa and Kristoff were still fairly sober. Jack had probably forcibly evicted his liver a year ago, Kristoff looked like he needed at _least_ a keg before getting remotely tipsy and Elsa was being sensible, nursing her third glass of mojito.

“Which one do you think is gonna break the friendship first?” Anna whispered to Kristoff’s ear, slightly slurring her words. Her vision was starting to go a teensy bit hazy as they both watched Elsa and Jack engage in quiet conversation, Jack occasionally stealing glances as he gazed around the packed nightclub.

_Must be that last drink. I am sooooo tipsy. Do ya wanna build a snowmaaaaannnnn…_

“My money’s on Jack.” Kristoff replied, smirking. “He’s totally into her.”

“Ya think? I reckon Elsa.”

“Why?”

“ ‘cause she is so into him, it’s unreal. They both’re tryna hide it, but they are about _that_ far from fuckin’ each other’s brains out.” Anna clarified, a tiny distance between her thumb and finger on a swaying hand to illustrate the point.

“You’re on. Ten bucks says I win.” Kristoff grinned, offering a huge hand to seal the deal.

Jack noticed the not-so-secret handshake between the two lovebirds, and was about to question their intentions when he noticed a familiar, hawkish face walk around the section of tables they were at, making a beeline to the bar. He watched the man hand over _far_ too much money for a simple drink to the bartender. Feeling the urge to channel Givens once more, he rose from the table, eyes fixed on the bar, and a feeling of uncertainty in his stomach.

“Hey, you okay?” came Elsa’s voice from his right.

“Yeah…just going for another drink. Anyone else?”

Variations of “Nah, I’m good” echoed from the table, and Jack wordlessly walked off to the bar. Elsa glanced down at his glass of whisky – which was still half full. Frowning, she looked back toward Jack who had reached the bar and was leaning over slightly, trying to gesture to the bartender.

Jack had every intention of calling him over and quietly snarling _“Whatever you’re thinking of doing, don’t”_ to the busy bar man, but before he could open his mouth, he heard a familiar voice to his right, along with the sensation of someone getting a _little too close._

“Hey, stranger. Not seen you in the coffee house for a while…” came the heavily slurred speech.

Jack sighed exasperatedly, and began to feel those unwelcome levels begin to bubble and spike once more.

_Well, you did feel it was almost too good to be true._

 

* * *

 

 

“So, Elsa…friends, huh?”

Elsa reluctantly turned her head from the bar towards Rapunzel’s teasing face, as Anna whispered something unintelligible into Kristoff’s ear, who promptly smirked and strode off in the direction of the DJ.

“Shut up, Punzie.” she snapped, knowing full well the implications of Rapunzel’s remark.

“Easy there, feistypants,” Rapunzel held her hands up in mock-surrender, “but I thought you should know, someone’s trying to make a move on your Jack.”

Elsa turned her head back to the bar, and sure enough, Rapunzel was right. The unnamed waitress from The Orient Espresso was sat beside Jack, completely invading his personal space and making him visibly tense. She was obviously two more drinks from passing out, which weren’t helping matters. Especially considering Jack was trying his best to politely deflect her drunken affections, and he seemed like he was pretty close to either lashing out, or freaking out.

_Oh, no you don’t. Not on my watch._

Elsa calmly replaced her drink, and rising from the table she strode off in the direction of the bar.

“Ooooo, shit’s about to go down, guys.” Eugene remarked, nudging a recently returned Kristoff.

“Go get ‘em, girl.” Anna slurred, feeling what she thought was the alcohol begin to strengthen its hold on her. Nausea, though, wasn’t usually part of the deal – and Anna was sure she wasn’t _that_ drunk.

Jack was grinding his teeth, rapping the bar surface with his knuckles with increasing agitation. Despite politely suggesting several times that she find someone else, and a couple of times being decidedly _impolite_ , the waitress just _wasn’t getting the message._ Starting to reach the levels akin to the elevator three days ago, the music was beginning to pulse in his head, fighting with the thumping in his ears.

He would not have an attack here. He refused to. Not in the middle of a packed club, in front of a nearly wasted woman.

And definitely not in front of Elsa.

“…and I zaw Blondie leave the table in a huff…and was wondrin…fancy comin’ home wi’ me t’night?”

_God, no. For the love of all things holy, leave me alone. I knew I shouldn’t have come here._

“ _Blondie_ happens to be the girlfriend of the man you’re hitting on.” came a stern, almost territorial voice from behind them, prompting a relieved sigh from Jack. The waitress turned and looked about three inches to the left of Elsa’s scowling glare, and she nearly fell off the stool as she did so.

“Wuh…I thought…”

“You’re so drunk; I’m honestly amazed your brain is still working. Shoo.” Elsa finished, taking a leaf from Jack’s book. The waitress tried to respond, but the level of alcohol in her system pretty much shot down any chance of coherent thought, let alone speech. She tried to hold up a threatening finger toward an unimpressed Elsa’s face…

…before it began to sway to the left…down…and down…until finally – hilariously – gravity renewed its efforts on the poor girl and she crashed down to the floor, the heads of Jack and Elsa following her inexorable descent to alcohol-fuelled oblivion.

“Wouldn’t want to be _her_ in the morning…” Jack observed dryly, gazing with mild amusement at the woman who was now being helped out of the club by two members of security. Elsa stepped to the side and took the recently vacated bar stool.

“You okay?” she asked, cocking her head to the side, the braid falling off her right shoulder.

“Better now. Thanks. Nice use of the G word, by the way. Definitely saw what you did there.” he half-chuckled, closing his eyes as the agitated feelings slowly returned to simmering. He didn’t see Elsa smile warmly and blush a little, as she looked down to try and suppress the ache that was returning to her chest.

Then, a song began to play over the speakers in the club, one that apparently seemed to have a startling effect on the young CEO-to-be. She smiled knowingly and shot a glare at Anna, who responded by whistling innocently and looking somewhere other than at her elder sister.

_Undisclosed Desires. I’m gonna get you, Anna. You know that this song always gets me dancing._

“Listen…can we still…you know…dance? As friends?” Elsa asked tentatively, shuffling a little closer. Jack opened his eyes and shifted his gaze to her, his expression one of fierce debate. Jack honestly didn’t know if he would be able to. On the one hand, it kinda flew in the face of the understanding of friendship, and would probably set off his levels. And yet, something Nick said barged into his mind.

_When you dwell too long on the possibilities of the future, you miss out on the here and now._

“It’s okay if you don’t want to. I know you’re worried that your-”

_Fuck it._

“Let’s go.” Jack interrupted, rising from the barstool, the decision made. He still looked nervous, but there was a flame building in his chest.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to put you in a position you’re not comfortable in…”

“I’m a week into my medication, I’m slightly tipsy, and if I’m going to have an attack, I’m gonna make the fucker worth it.” he growled, gazing into Elsa’s eyes with the same determination they held in the office, not three days ago. Elsa beamed, hopped off the stool and walked with him to the dance floor, just as Matt Bellamy began to sing.

 

_I know you’ve suffered, but I don’t want you to hide.  
It’s cold and loveless; I won’t let you be denied._

__  
Soothing, I’ll make you feel pure.  
Trust me, you can be sure.

 “Oh my God.  It’s happening. Someone get a…camera.” Anna said, desperately trying to suppress the rising nausea in her stomach and strange sensations in her legs. She swayed a little to the side, but everyone’s gaze was too focused on the unfolding scene to notice.

 

 _I want to reconcile the violence in your heart._  
I want to recognise your beauty’s not just a mask.  
I want to exorcise the demons in your past.  
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.

 

It had been over three years since Jack last danced at the high school prom, and it showed. It really, _really_ showed. He was clunky, rusty, completely out of rhythm and generally looking like the poster child for the phrase _‘white guys can’t dance’._ It wasn’t helping his head, despite most of the other club-goers being too busy dancing to the music or melting into kisses to notice.

“God, that’s almost painful to watch. I need to record this, I’m so gonna put it up on YouTube.” Eugene had snickered.

He was honestly more worried about how he looked in front of Elsa, but he needn’t have been.

 

_You trick your lovers that you’re wicked and divine.  
You may be a sinner, but your innocence is mine._

__  
Please me, show me how it’s done.  
Tease me, you are the one.

By contrast, Elsa was at home. She was so in tune with the music and the beat, it was almost like she was an extension of the song itself. Keeping a respectful distance between Jack and herself, swaying her hips from side to side, she closed her eyes and smiled to herself as she raised her hands slightly above her head, slowly revolving with each gentle hip movement. Like Shakira, but _much_ slower. Jack was honestly too focused on, with wide eyes, watching her _‘show him how it’s done’_ than he was actually dancing.

 

 _I want to reconcile the violence in your heart._  
I want to recognise your beauty’s not just a mask.  
I want to exorcise the demons from your past.  
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.

“Damn, Elsa’s on _fire._ ” Kristoff had mused, earning a pitifully weak slap on the arm from his fiancée. Turning to smirk at her, his expression fell to one of concern.

“You okay, honey?” he asked, gently rubbing her arm to try and ground her.

“I’m…f-fine Kris. I think the booze has caught up with me.” she managed a weak smile, feeling her eyelids starting to become heavy.

There was a break in the song now, where only the electric drum beat and the rhythmic finger clicking existed, and it struck Jack how absolutely beautiful Elsa was as she ran her fingers through her hair and down her neck, slowly swaying and gently gyrating to the smooth, seductive sounds drifting through the speakers.

 

_Please me, show me how it’s done._

It happened before he was even remotely aware of it. Something fiery was spreading through his chest and limbs, fighting the anxiety for control of his mind but in control of his body. Slowly, he began to step towards the dancing, tempting woman in front of him, his heart thundering in his chest. She opened her eyes at just the right time, and as though responding to an invisible suggestion, rested her arms over his shoulders, lacing her fingers together. He responded by placing his hands on her hips, feeling his mind begin to buzz and his heart threaten to explode, her breath hitching and her lips parting at his touch.

_Remember how you used to dance, three years ago?_

_Then you know what to do. Let it go._

And then, with something inside him clicking as they gazed into each other’s eyes…

 

_Trust me, you are the one._

…and as the song reached the crescendo, they began to dance as one.

Hips moved in the same direction. Feet stepped at the same time. Jack leaned forward at the same time as Elsa leaned back, a hand on her spine to support her as she moved in a right-to-left arc, and then sharply pulled her upright. She turned on the spot, pressing her back onto his chest, and he responded by placing a hand on her abdomen and lowering his nose to her bare shoulders, breathing in her sweet, breezy perfume as the heat of his breath sent shocking tingles through her skin, making her heart race like never before.

 

 _I want to reconcile the violence in your heart._  
I want to recognise your beauty’s not just a mask.  
I want to exorcise the demons from your past.  
I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart.

And as the song reached its inexorable climax and the winding down of the rhythm, Jack used his arm’s position to – in one fluid, adept movement – stop her breathing as he whirled her around, placed a hand at the nape of her neck to support her, placed another at the base of her spine, and lowered her down so she was horizontal, and he was bent over her.

Breathlessly, she stared wide-eyed into his pools of cobalt blue as their lips were parted, mere _inches_ from each other, the tips of their noses even less. On some level, she knew it was down to him, but she willed him nonetheless.

_Kiss me._

His eyes darted from one cerulean orb to the other, pushing as hard as he could to make that final jump, the leap of faith.

_Do it._

But then, in the worst case of the worst timing in the history of _everything_ , he suddenly, starkly became aware of the entire dancefloor watching them, the thunderous war drums in his chest and ears, and the fact that once again he had jumped into something without thinking.

Well, that wasn’t true. He had thought about it, and decided to the price was worth it. And by God, how it was.

 His anxiety had just decided to wait for the right time before lighting the fuse to another crippling attack. His pupils dilated almost to their limit, his arms began to jerk a little and his breathing became rapid and deep.

“Are you-?”

“Y-yeah…”

“Do you-?”

“Yeah…”

He swiftly lifted Elsa upright, and briefly stared at her with an incredibly apologetic face before turning and nearly running out of the club, a shaking hand going through his snow-white locks as he practically banged the doors open.

Elsa stood for a time watching him leave, her bare arms protectively holding herself as she tried to calm the breathlessness and racing heart, the ache and anger, the regret and…dare she say it…lust inside her. Slowly, she stepped off the dancefloor past the muttering mouths and the gawping eyes, and made her way to the table, flopping down onto her stool and draining nearly half of her mojito.

_God damn your anxiety, Jack._

“You okay there?” Rapunzel asked, her face full of concern as she stroked Elsa’s arm in comfort.

“I’m fine.” she responded, a little too curtly. There were far too many emotions running through her at that point in time, so a simple ‘fine’ would have to cut it. She looked around the table for a certain face, but found it missing.

“Where’s Anna?” she asked, her eyes roving the club. Some people still glanced at her, much to her annoyance.

“She said she wasn’t feeling great, so she went to the ladies.” Kristoff said.

“And why aren’t you there with her?”

“She made me promise to stay here. I think she kinda knew that was going to happen, so she wanted me to be here for you...and it’s the ladies room.” he clarified. Elsa hesitated for a moment, and then nodded. She could use the understanding, right now.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna had practically staggered through the doors and a few steps to the left just before Jack and Elsa channelled the power of professional dancers, and was feeling the cold bite of the air against her skin, hoping that it would chase away the increasingly drowsy feeling in her mind and the iron weight of her limbs. She tried to work out what it was. Could it be the tacos they had before they walked into the club? No, she never had any problem with Mexican food.

Could it have been too much alcohol? Possibly, but it usually doesn’t come with the feeling that something is _very fucking wrong_ with your system.

That only leaves…

_Oh no. My last drink…_

And as if to punctuate the horrible realisation, an oily voice reached her ears.

“My, Anna, you look _awful_. Let’s take you home, shall we?”

She felt hands grip her arms, two different amounts of pressure on each bicep and felt herself be moved forward against her will.

“N-no…please…” she tried to shout, but it could only come as a hoarse gasp.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” came another voice to her left, the one with the slightly weaker grip.

“Yes, I do. This is payback. Don’t tell me you’re losing your balls.”

The other man didn’t respond.

“Please…d-don’t do this…”

“Shut up. You’re not gonna remember a single thing about how much we’re gonna fuck you. That we’re gonna be your first time. How’s that for a mind-fuck?”

 

* * *

 

 

Jack burst through the doors and the kick of the cold air mingled with the sweat on his skin, and he collapsed onto his hands and knees as he desperately tried to steady his rapid breathing. He had pushed himself too far. He had gone from _Okay Anxiety Level_ with the hug, to _RED ALERT RED ALERT_ with the dance.

And yet, through all of the fear coursing through his mind and his body, and the retching that had suddenly begun, he knew.

It was worth it.

His vision beginning to clear, and becoming more aware of the cold, wet sensation on his legs, he sat back on his knees and, for some reason, followed an unknown command to look to his left.

A few hundred yards away, a familiar-looking woman was being supported by two familiar looking men…and a familiar feeling of dread grew in the pit of his stomach as they rounded the corner into what was possibly an alleyway.

_Anna!_

And, like that, his anxiety attack stopped.

And like a bat out of hell, he ran in the same direction.

 

* * *

 

 

Anna felt herself be slammed roughly against the wall, a dull pain erupting from the point of contact. Hands roughly ripped her blouse, exposing her chest and bra to the elements. Even the frostbitten air felt strangely subdued on her sensitive skin.

_Please, black out._

“D-don’t…do this…I-I’m…sorry…”

Her legs were forced apart and held by a pair of arms, and another pair of hands tore her skirt and began to lace around her underwear…

“Sorry doesn’t cut it, princess. This is my revenge.”

_I’m sorry, Kristoff…_

 

And just as she felt the fingers stretch her underwear, the arms supporting her were suddenly wrenched from their grasp, and the dark patch in her vision was replaced blurry light, and a black-and-white figure standing protectively over her as she slumped down the wall, facing off against Red and Black.

She could make out White counter a punch by weaving to the side and administering a right hook, eliciting a roar of pain and a sickening crunch.

She could make out Red attempt to grab White’s chest, who responded by gut-punching him, grabbing his head and smashing his forehead into Red’s nose.

She could only just make out Black land a few  punches on White’s face and stomach, White taking every one as though it was nothing, grabbing Black’s chest and winding his fist back, landing several solid punches to Black’s face, the impact snapping his head back, and then throwing him to where Red was crawling away in agony.

And just before she blacked out, she felt a pair of arms support her back and the crook of her legs, lifting her gently from the floor and carrying her towards a long black shape.

Blue eyes and white hair.

The last thing she saw, before all became black.

 

* * *

 

 

“Something’s not right. She should be back by now.” Elsa muttered, the feeling of uncertainty churning her stomach. It had been a good thirty minutes since she apparently went to the ladies room. Rapunzel returned, having checked out the toilets in worry.

“She’s not there. Checked every cubicle. Got a few curse words from some folks doing coke in there, though.” Rapunzel declared, wringing her hands together in worry.

“I’m going outside. Maybe Jack saw her.” Elsa announced, rapidly rising from the table and striding off toward the doors. With Anna nowhere to be seen, the only way she could have gone was to the outside. And if that was the case, then Jack was sure to have at least _seen_ her.

_If he’s still there._

Practically wrenching the doors from their hinges, Elsa ran out into the snowy street, her head whipping left and right for a sign, a mere glimpse of her little sister. The one she was supposed to protect.

No sign of Jack, either.

“I swear to God, Anna, this isn’t funny. Where are you? Where is Jack? What the fuck is going on?” she hissed, scanning the faces of random pedestrians and clubbers entering through the doors. Nothing. No sign of either strawberry blonde or snow-white.

And, as though an answer to her prayers, the phone in her bra vibrated like a miniature earthquake. Scratching her skin as she darted a hand inside to retrieve the device, she stared at the screen with panicked expectation.

_New Message (1): From – Jack_

_“Our Lady of Arendelle Hospital. Emergency Department. Ward D. Anna needs you. Get your fucking asses over there NOW. – Jack”_

She gasped, and very nearly screamed. Jumping as she felt a hand upon her shoulder, she gazed into the tall form of Kristoff with tearful, wide eyes and a hand over her mouth. Before he had a chance to ask what was wrong, she showed him the message.

 

* * *

 

 

Elsa had practically dived out of the taxi cab upon its arrival at Our Lady of Arendelle Hospital.

Stirred into action by Kristoff’s fearful expression, Elsa had flagged down a cab, and piling herself, Kristoff, Rapunzel and Eugene into the back seat, she paid the driver a hilariously high amount in advance and told him to get to the hospital as fast as he could. Which he did. Had the group not been wrapped in fear of what could have happened to their precious Anna, they would have been equally terrified of the speed that the driver was going.

Running with admirable balance in the heels that she was wearing, she tore through the sliding doors to the Emergency Admissions Department and practically collapsed on the reception desk.

“Anna…Snowfield…where…is she?” she gasped, trying to wrench her breathing back to normal from the terror in her heart and the fatigue in her legs.

“Are you family?” the nurse drawled, without looking up. Elsa felt the warm surge of anger rise within her chest, just as the rest of the group caught up with her.

“I’m…her fucking sister…where is she?”

The nurse looked up at this, and regarded her with an expression that was split between offended and sympathetic. Gesturing for Elsa to follow, she briskly walked down a nearby corridor, through the doors with the letter D emblazoned above the doorframe, and stood at the end of one of the beds. Elsa felt her breath be forcibly ripped from her chest once more.

Anna was laid unconscious in a hospital gown, her once perfect hair now unkempt and flyaway. Bruises adorned her upper arms and lower legs, and she looked as pale as the winter snow.

“What happened to her?” Elsa whispered weakly.

“The man who brought her in said that she was nearly raped, that she had been drugged with something. Rohypnol, most likely. We did some checks, and there’s no sign of bruising in her groin or damage...you know. Physically, she’s going to be fine. Mentally, that’s another story.”

Elsa’s sigh of relief at the ‘physically’ stopped when she heard the ‘mentally’, and she felt the tears begin to well up in her eyes. That couldn’t happen to Anna. Not sweet, bouncy Anna.

“Who…who brought her in?” she asked, weakly.

“He didn’t leave a name, sorry. I can tell you this, though. He looked like he’d been through hell and back for this girl. Bruises and blood all over his face, probably a broken nose. We tried to see to him after he laid her on the bed, but he just freaked out when I tried to touch him. Wouldn’t let any of us go near him. Last I saw, he was running out of the main doors, screaming at us to do whatever we could for her.”

Elsa’s heart skipped a beat, adding to the myriad of positive and negative emotions tearing through her chest and mind.

 

_Jack._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yikes. That's actually one of the hardest ones I've written. Ever.
> 
> I do not own the character of Raylan Givens nor the television show Justified, nor do I own Frank Underwood or the television show House of Cards.
> 
> I hope this was a good one, cause it fucking tired me out.


	18. Rage (Breaking Through)

With the nature of Anna’s attack being what it was; hospital policy dictated the summoning of the local police force.  Bullet wounds, knife wounds, assault, sexual assault, anything that was outside of the realm of ‘accidental’ and firmly entrenched in the world of ‘intended’ required their presence.

The only problem was that when two police officers took Elsa, Kristoff, Eugene and Rapunzel into the surprisingly empty waiting room at quarter to two in the morning, none of them had the faintest idea what to say.

The stories were pretty much the same: Anna said she was feeling incredibly queasy and faint, and told them she was going to the ladies room to try and sort herself out, or throw up. One or the other. None of them were aware that she had actually left the club, and had nearly been raped by two unknown men had it not been for the timely intervention of Jackson Overland _,_ until they had arrived at the hospital and were smacked with the breath-tearing news.

The only person aside from the unconscious Anna that could shed _any_ light on the matter had disappeared from the hospital, injured and enraged, and was completely off the grid. Unresponsive to both text messaging and phone calls. Nowhere to be seen.

So, at three o’clock, two hours since Anna’s admission to hospital, Elsa found herself sat by her sister’s bed, in one of the comfy visitor chairs after she had been relocated to another ward, she tried not to cry. Tried not to let the raging storm of emotions inside find their way out through her tears. Tried not to be angry at herself for _‘being too busy dancing with Jack and falling for him to notice her sister’s disappearance’_ whilst trying not to be angry at Jack himself for _making her feel that way_.

At the same time as feeling immensely grateful for his intervention, and intense worry for his wellbeing. The nurse had told them that _“he looked like he’d been through hell and back”_ , and that he wouldn’t let anyone go near him to see to his injuries.

But maybe, he would let _her._

Reviving the smartphone that she had been gripping _just in case_ Jack reached out to her, she tried calling him for the twenty fifth time, receiving nothing but the _brrm brrm_ sound that she had been hearing for the twenty four times before that.

There was another way, though. Scrolling through the contacts list, she selected the name Nicholas St North and was just about to press the _Call_ button when, with a voice as faint as the hum of distant bees, Anna began to stir.

“W-where…am…I?” she croaked, instinctively licking her dry lips.

Elsa jerked upright and grasped her sister’s hand, squeezing it as tightly as she could. Kristoff, who had not taken his eyes off her ever since she had been moved to the ward, quickly shot out of the room to summon a nurse.

“Hey, firecracker. You’re in hospital.” Elsa smiled, feeling a hot tear slide down her left cheek as she smiled at her sister.

Anna raised a pale hand to her head and instinctively tried to sit up, but the sudden pounding of her head made her wince and forced a sharp intake of breath. Elsa quickly leaned forward and laid a hand on her sister’s shoulder, gently pushing her back down.

“Do you remember anything?”

“No…not really. Just blurry images. Like…trying to remember a day-old dream...” she answered in a hoarse voice. Feeling the pain in her head begin to subside, Anna tried to pull herself upright against the headboard. Elsa quickly poured water into a plastic cup and passed it to her sister, who sipped from it at first, but then drained the cup when the need for liquid overwhelmed her.

“I remember…three people,” she murmured, closing her eyes in an effort to recall the hazy memories, “one was fighting the other two. I remember being carried, and…red. Lots of red, with white. That’s all.”

Anna opened her eyes, having exhausted every possible avenue to recall the past events, and noticed the bruising on her wrists, along with the painful sensation in her shoulders and legs. Her breathing became more rapid as a feeling of dread and nausea churned her stomach, and tendrils of fear sprouted from her heart. Tears dripped from her eyes and a sob waited in her throat in preparation for the answer.

“Did they…” she began, but Elsa interrupted with a vigorous shaking of the head.

“No. They didn’t. You’re safe.”

Elsa’s answer, combined with Kristoff’s return to the room with an expression of overjoyed relief caused the sob to appear anyway, but it was accompanied with a relieved smile of her own. Holding her lead-filled arms open as Kristoff surged forward, she held him in a loving embrace as the tears slid down from her eyes and onto the shoulders of the man she loved.

Drawing back just enough to draw his lips to hers in a loving, overwhelming kiss as she stroked the side of his face, she felt him begin to jerk a little as sobs of his own appeared.

“It’s okay, Kristoff. I’m okay. I love you. Don’t cry.” she whispered, wiping away his tears with a thumb. He wrapped her in a tight embrace once more, and Elsa was struck with the feeling that she could very much use a hug of her own.

Anna felt the pounding return to her head, so with Kristoff’s help she gently slumped back onto the headboard, Elsa quickly darting over to place the two pillows in a comfortable position. Anna sighed, feeling the pain begin to subside. Stealing a glance at her sister, she frowned at the look in those cerulean pools. Elsa was trying to hide something, and whether it was something related to her or someone else, Anna wanted to know.

“ ‘Sis? What’s wrong?”

_Hah. The irony. My sister in the hospital bed is asking ME what’s wrong._

“It’s…nothing. Don’t worry about _me_ , Anna. You’re the one that’s been through hell.”

Anna gave her the usual _“don’t give me that shit”_ look, and grasping her elder sister’s hand she forced the point.

“Don’t give me that, Elsie. I may still feel like shit but I can still tell when you’re bullshitting. Tell me.”

Elsa sighed a little exasperatedly, but mostly out of relief. Even after the shock of her near-rape and the after-effects of the drugging, Anna was still Anna.

“Jack was the one that brought you here, but he’s MIA.” Kristoff answered. Elsa felt a rush of gratitude towards her soon-to-be brother-in-law; she was finding it incredibly hard to answer her sister. Mostly due to the feeling of being torn between being there for her sister and being there for Jack.

“What? Why?” Anna frowned harder, still regarding Elsa’s downturned head.

“No-one knows. Nurse said he was the one that brought you here, but he looked like hell. Bruises and cuts all over his face, and that’s only the ones they could see. They tried to clean him up, but he wouldn’t let them. We haven’t seen him since the dance. Elsa’s been calling him since we got here, but he won’t pick up.” he continued.

“Red and white…it was Jack that saved me, wasn’t it?”

Anna now shared Elsa’s worried expression, eyes shifting from Kristoff to Elsa when they failed to respond.

“Does anyone know where he lives?”

“Um…his godfather does. I have his number.” Elsa offered.

“Call him. Now.”

“But…”

“No buts, Elsa. I know what you’re thinking, you want to be here with me, and I love you for that. Honestly, I do. Right now, though, Jack needs you more. I have Kristoff with me, I’ll be fine. Call Mr St North, find Jack’s address and go see if he’s okay.” Anna commanded. Elsa was struck with the partly amusing idea that Anna would make one hell of a military officer.

“Are you sure?” Elsa asked. She knew the answer already, and if she was honest – and felt a little guilty for – it was the one she was hoping for.

“ _Yes._ Go.” Anna finished, fixing her elder sister with a stern expression.

Without another word, Elsa bent over and kissed her sister’s forehead, then re-activated her phone as she strode out of the room. Pressing the _Call_ button, she raised the phone to her ear as she walked down the corridor toward the elevator, which would take her down to the first floor main entrance.

A sleepy, rocky rumble greeted her ears from the speaker, sounding decidedly unimpressed.

_“Miss Snowfield, it’s twenty past three. What possessed you to call this…early?”_

“I’m sorry for the timing, but it’s important. It’s about your godson, I need his address.”

_“Miss Snowfield, whatever is going on between the two of you; surely it can wait until-”_

Elsa couldn’t help it, the worry, the fear and the anger all rose up as one single burst and she mercilessly cut him off, almost rebuking him.

“Mr St North, your godson has been hurt, possibly severely, in the pursuit of saving my sister from being raped. He has not been answering my calls, responding to my messages, I don’t know where he is. I don’t know how badly he may be hurt. For fuck’s sake, sir, I don’t know if he had been fucking _stabbed_ while fucking preventing my sister from suffering a fucking _lifetime_ of mental problems. I just want to find out if he is okay. Please, I _need his address._ ” she finished tearfully, the latter, colourful sentences coming out in a rapid, panicked blur. If it wasn’t obvious to everyone how she felt about him before, it was clear now.

Silence reigned on the phone, before the rocky rumble returned once more, this time acquiescing.

_“He lives in the Winter Apartment Building. Number four. I am currently out of the city at the moment, so will you please keep me apprised?”_

Elsa breathed an audible sigh of relief. She had the sneaking suspicion that North would refuse, and go see Jack himself. She didn’t want that to happen. She _wanted_ to be there for him.

She wanted _him._

“You have my word. Thank you.”

* * *

 

They say that a breakdown happens differently for every person that suffers one. Some seem to completely shut down and become an empty shell, others become a flailing wreck, hypersensitive to touch and sound. Even the duration is different for each person, for some it can be over in minutes, others can experience it for days.

Jack had spent most of the two hours slumped against the wall directly opposite the slightly open apartment door, his legs bent with his feet on the floor, left elbow on his left knee so his hand could support his heavy head, while the right hand grasped a half-empty bottle of whisky on the floor.

He was still barely aware of the carnage he had wrought in his apartment, when he flew into an uncontrollable rage. Punching holes in walls, throwing pictures across the floor, tossing the coffee table like it weighed nothing. Liquid still dripped from the wall to the left of the apartment door where he had thrown a glass of whisky, not even caring that it smashed into a million pieces. CD cases strewn across the floor, some ripped apart, others with the discs laying a few feet away.

All he knew was that the anxiety inside him, which was held in a state of flux upon seeing the two insects forcing themselves upon Anna, and remained just below critical even as he rained strikes down upon them, even as he walked straight into a busy hospital carrying her unconscious, indecent form, even as he drove home in a numb blur, had suddenly spiked.

But, instead of collapsing on the floor and jerking like he was the recipient of a deadly electric shock, he had just snapped. Hot, violent rage had burst from his chest, filling every inch of his being with its furious storm, and nearly everything that was unfortunate enough to fall into his vision lay broken on the floor.

Just like him.

And it all started with the first song that greeted him when he pressed _Play_ on his music system, which happened to be one of his sister’s favourite songs. Historically, he had done the same thing with _My Immortal_ as he did with _Metalingus_ , and that was hammer the skip button until he was sure he wouldn’t hear the song again.

But, even though he recognised the familiar piano melody, along with the haunting, emotive tones of Amy Lee, he couldn’t bring himself to press the button. Something inside him was screaming to leave it, to let the song reach its conclusion. So he did.

And as soon as she began to sing the first words of the first verse, _everything_ came flooding back.

 

_I’m so tired of being here,_   
_Suppressed by all my childish fears._   
_And if you have to leave, I wish that you would just leave._   
_‘Cause your presence still lingers here and it won’t leave me alone._

It was like the dam that he had built inside, the structure he had so lovingly tended to, which had begun to weaken and crack thanks to a certain platinum blonde, had reached the point where a single tap started a chain reaction, that let the torrent of emotions and memories rush forth and flood his mind.

He _was_ tired. Tired of putting himself in a prison of his own making, where he existed in limbo. Not accepting the past, not looking toward the future. Just…existing.

Maybe he should let it all go.

_(“Jack? Do you want to meet your baby sister?”_

_“Holy crap, she’s so tiny…Was I this small?”_

_“Smaller. She is seven pounds six, you were six pounds five. Isn’t she beautiful?”_

_“Damn right! Hello there, little snowflake.”)_

_These wounds won’t seem to heal._   
_This pain is just too real._   
_There’s just too much that time cannot erase._

 

_(“Where’s Dad?”_

_“Your father is…working.”_

_“He’s always working. Sophie barely gets to see him. WE barely get to see him.”_

_“I know, Jack. I know…but you’re doing a pretty good job of keeping Sophie out of trouble in his absence. I’m proud of you.”_

_“Aw, mooooom…gerroff me!”_

_“I know, I know. Teenagers hate hugs! Come on, help me make dinner. Sophie should be back from her friend’s house soon.”_

_“And Dad?”_

_“…”)_

 

_When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears._   
_When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears._   
_And I held your hand through all of these years,_   
_But you still have all of me._

_(“Jaaaaaack!”_

_“Whaaat, Soph, it’s, like, one in the morning. Go to sleep.”_

_“I can’t! Monster under my bed!”_

_“No there isn’t…go back to bed…”_

_“I’m scared, Jack.”_

_“Alright…let’s check your bed first. Nope, nothing but toys under there. What about the closet…BOO! Nope, all clear here. Maybe the monster is really…you! Rawrawrawr!”_

_“Ahahaha! Jack, that tickles! Stop! Ahaha!”_

_“See, no monsters here. You’re all safe. Now go back to sleep. School tomorrow.”_

_“Can I stay in your bed, Jack? I’m scared the Boogeyman will come back…”_

_“Tch, fine. Push me off the bed, though, and I’ll wake you up with a snowball to the face.”_

_“I promise. Pinkie promise. Jack…could you tell me the story? Of the Man in the Moon?”)_

_You used to captivate me by your resonating light._   
_Now I’m bound by the life you left behind._   
_Your face, it haunts my once pleasant dreams._   
_Your voice, it chased away all the sanity in me._

 

_(“Elizabeth, what do you want me to do? Fold the company? LET Black take over?!”_

_“I want you to be the father you’re supposed to be! I can count on one hand the birthdays, nativity plays, sports days and Christmases you’ve been here for! One hand! And Sophie is six! Jack’s doing everything you should be doing as well as studying for his finals!”_

_“If I let him take over, that’s it! The company would be over!”_

_“YOU JUST DON’T GET IT, DO YOU? YES WE WOULD LOSE THE COMPANY BUT WE WOULD BE A FAMILY!”)_

_(“Mom and Dad are shouting again…”_

_“Yup. Pretty much all they do when he comes home.”_

_“Is it because of me?”_

_“No, Sophie. No, no, no. It’s not your fault. C’mere, you. Let’s go outside, I’ve got a snowball with your name on it.”_

_“Bring it on!”)_

_These wounds won’t seem to heal._   
_This pain is just too real._   
_There’s just too much that time cannot erase._   
  


_(“Jack, can I talk to you?”_

_“Yeah, ‘sup Mom?”_

_“I just wanted to say, I’m proud of you.”_

_“Huh? Why?”_

_“I know I’ve not been a good mother, with your father’s company folding and finding him in that woman’s…”_

_“Come here, Mom. You’ve been great. Dad…I don’t want to talk about him. Don’t worry. I love you, Mom.”_

_“Love you too, son. I’m really proud of you, taking Sophie under your wing like that. Although, some of your tricks are starting to rub off on her…”_

_“Pleading the fifth. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”)_

_When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears._   
_When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears._   
_And I held your hand through all of these years,_   
_But you still have all of me._

_(“Which one was pushing you?”_

_“That one, with the blue hat.”_

_“You mean the smallest one. Sophie, you’re, like, a head taller than him. You sure?”_

_“Yeah…”_

_“Hey, kid! Think fast!”_

_*thud*_

_“Hah! That was funny! He’s not gonna push me around now I’ve got Jack Frost looking after me!”_

_“Snowballs and fun times, Soph. Snowballs and fun times.”)_

_I’ve tried so hard to tell myself that you’re gone._

_(“C’mon Mom, I can’t see a thing.”_

_“That’s the point of a surprise, Jack. If you even touch that blindfold, you’ll be chopping onions for a week.”_

_“Tch, fine. But only because it’s you.”_

_“Okay, we’re here. Ready, now…open!”_

_“Holy shit…”_

_“Watch your language!”_

_“Mom, it’s a 1967 Chevy Impala! Course I’m gonna swear! How did you get this?”_

_“Well…let’s just say I dipped into your inheritance fund. It’s for...to say thank you, for being my son. For helping me look after Sophie.”_

_“Mom, this is…hey, hey, don’t cry. This is amazing. Thank you.”)_

_But though you’re still with me,_

_“C’mon, let’s cross over.”_

_“Jack! Look what we got you for Christ-”_

_“Sophie…Mom…Sophie…SOPHIE!!! NO!”)_

_(“Nine one one, what’s your emergency”_

_“My mom and my sister, they’ve…Oh God…no, please don’t be dead…”_

_“Sir, where are you?”_

_“Shepherd’s Street…please, come quick…my sister is still breathing…”_

_“Ambulance is en route. Please stay where you are.”_

_“It’s okay, Sophie. I’ve got you. I’ve got you. I’m here. I’ve got you.”)_

 

_I’ve been alone all along._

And as soon as the guitar crescendo had hit Jack’s ears, everything had come out. Three years of suppressed grief, rage and sorrow exploded within him, overwhelming his heart, his mind and his eyes, hell, his entire body.

Roaring with rage, hot tears dripping in torrents from his eyes, he had unleashed every single emotion that he had buried inside himself when his body had just shut itself down, upon hearing the solid flat-line in the ambulance. When Sophie’s hand, which had only weakly held on to his fingers, relaxed for the last time. When he had reverted within himself, unable to cope with the grief.

When he had sealed himself off.

The sounds of rage-filled carnage had reached his ears, each smash like a release, like an intoxicating reward. The bruises in his chest screaming at him with every movement, the pain in his hands with every impact. None of it mattered, because the pain felt _good_.

It was like he was purging himself.

And that was _his_ breakdown.  When the anxiety within him had risen to such a point, and clashed with the tidal wave of repressed emotions, his body simply couldn’t cope, and had to channel the furious battle somehow.

_When you cried I’d wipe away all of your tears._   
_When you’d scream I’d fight away all of your fears._   
_And I held your hand through all of these years,_   
_But you still have all of me._

 

When the destructive fury had subsided, Jack had collapsed against the wall opposite the door, sliding limply down to the floor, next to a conveniently placed bottle of whisky. Heavy breathing returning to normal inhalations and exhalations, albeit slightly forced, before the tears had resumed the waterfall. The raging flood of grief had slowed to a stream, and yet he still cried into his hand…

Because in his mind, Anna reminded him of Sophie, had she been able to grow another ten years.

And unlike that terrible day three years ago, in saving Anna, he felt he had redeemed himself. He felt like he had saved his little sister.

He lost track of time, the tears having subsided to make way for vacant thought, like when someone stares at the flames in a fireplace. When they watch the fiery ribbons dance in their yellowy-orange splendour, and the body just pauses while the mind processes. He still automatically swigged from the bottle of whisky, though. Some things never change.

He was barely aware of the stinging and the aching in his face, and the sharp pain in his chest muscles as his mind went through every single memory, from the accident, through the two incidents in the two separate colleges, to the first moment he laid eyes upon Elsa and to the moment that he drowned in the seas of cerulean blue, where he completely, inexorably fell for her.

The same woman that was currently standing in his doorway, calling his name.

* * *

 

“Jack?” Elsa whispered, scanning the dark, moonlit room.

“I’m here.”

“Are you okay? Where are you?” she called, but Jack didn’t answer.

“This is silly, I can’t see a thing. Where’s the light?” she muttered, turning her phone on and using the screen’s glow to bring a weak illumination to the surroundings. Tentatively stepping forward, she felt the crunch of something indeterminable under her heeled shoes, while looking around for some kind of light.

“Jack, I can’t see you.”

“I don’t _want_ you to see me. Not like this.” he responded, trying to make it a refusal. It was far too shaky and faint to be one, though. In fact, Elsa could barely make the words out. The glow of her screen shone faintly over the only thing still standing in his living room, which happened to be a tall, thin lamp, and after switching it on she was struck with the level of devastation in the room.

“Oh my God…what happened here?”

“Me.” Jack answered, his eyes not leaving the floor. Elsa’s gaze shifted from the broken whisky bottle in front of his sofa, to his slumped form against the wall.

“Oh Jesus…” she gasped, surging forward and kneeling in front of him. Instinctively, she reached out a hand and lifted his chin to look at his pained features. One hell of a bruise sat on his left cheek, his nose had been leaking now-congealed blood, several splits adorned his swollen lips and he possessed a few cuts on his brow. His eyes were red and swollen, and the remnants of tears had mixed with spots of red to form a pink trail down his cheeks. His chest rose and fell almost as though he had to mentally force himself to breathe, and it hitched occasionally when a pain shot through his ribs.

Splits on his knuckles that had just started to clot had been re-opened by his rage-filled rampage, small lines of red tracing down his fingers.

“Now you see me, Elsa.” he whispered, those words taking on more of a depth than simply laying one’s eyes upon another.

She checked each wound, then as a protective instinct kicked in she swiftly rose to her feet and walked in the direction of the kitchen, dodging CD cases and broken glass along the way. Jack still stared at the floor, hearing the sound of banging cupboards and mutters of _“bowl, where’s the bowl”_ , and then the sound of running water and the _click clack_ of her returning footsteps.

Placing the bowl by the side of him, she soaked a cloth in the cold water before wringing it out and gently stroking his brow with it. Jack hissed slightly as the skin was still a little sensitive, but overall she was incredibly soft with her care.

“Why didn’t you stay at the hospital? I couldn’t reach you, I was scared something happened to you…” she whispered, the worry and the pain evident in her voice.

“Anna…was more important…” he murmured, flinching with a sharp _shhht_ as the cloth now found its way to his cheek. For some reason, the bruise screamed louder than the cuts.

“You were freaking out, weren’t you…” she observed quietly, brushing away the blood from under his nose.

“…yes.” was his reply.

“And you still saved her.”

“She was worth it. You…were worth it.” he answered faintly, but with conviction. Elsa hitched her breath and a rush of warmth spread from her chest into her cheeks. At this point she was cleaning his lips but upon hearing his words, she hesitated, slowly pulling the cloth away. She was starkly aware of the thumping in her chest, and Jack was very much aware of, though he was not looking directly, the way her slight cleavage rapidly rose and fell with each breath. His eyes slowly traced up her arms, along her bare shoulders, and finally came to rest upon those orbs of blue that held him in a trance. Pained confusion radiated from her eyes as they gazed into his own.

He hadn’t noticed how rapid and heavy his own breaths were until he felt a sharp pain shoot from his abdomen and spread over his ribs, and with a sharp intake of breath and one hell of a wince, he screwed his eyes shut and grasped his stomach protectively.

“Stand up. Let me see.”

“No, I’m okay-”

“Let. Me. See.” she cut him off sternly, and rose to her feet, extending an arm. Jack hesitated, but decided that he might as well co-operate. Releasing the whisky bottle in his right hand, he gripped her forearm as she gripped his, a reversal of the collision in the street, and curling his left leg under him, he rose to his left knee first.

Had someone taken a photograph, it almost looked like he was proposing to her.

He felt a strong pull on his forearm as Elsa helped his ascent, and resting his right hand on the breakfast bar, he slowly unbuttoned his shirt with his left.

Given the nature of his undressing, Elsa’s lips parted as she wondered if it was wrong of her to suddenly get a _little_ flustered as he removed his shirt, standing with his chest exposed in front of her.

_Friends, remember. You’re here as a friend._

Elsa sucked in a breath as her eyes were finally laid upon the scars that Pabbie was referring to, all those days ago. Beginning on his left side, they stretched along his stomach and his chest, tapering off as they reached his right, sending a cold shiver down her spine as she involuntarily imagined the feeling of glass slicing through skin.

And in the centre of his stomach near his navel, one hell of a black bruise sat angrily contrasting itself with the otherwise pale white of his skin. Stirring herself with a shake of the head, she bent down and soaked the cloth in the cold water once more, wringing it out so it wasn’t dripping wet, but still retained enough water to act as a cold compress.

Placing the cloth over the bruise, Jack’s breathing hitched as the pain shot through his body once more, but the cold bite of the cloth soothed the angry inflammation. Swaying slightly, the soothing sensation brought the realisation of just _how_ tired he was crashing down, as his eyelids started to become _very fucking heavy._

“Come on, let’s get you to bed before you fall over.” Elsa sighed, hooking an arm under his left shoulder and guiding him slowly past the breakfast bar. Jack managed a mirthless, sleepy chuckle.

“We only…had our first date, and now you’re taking me to bed?”

Elsa felt herself laugh, despite the myriad of emotions coursing through her chest. Humour in the face of pity and she could swear that, just for a second, she saw a smirk appear on his face.

“Well, we’re supposedly boyfriend and girlfriend, so…” she smiled, leading him through the open door to his bedroom.

“After what you’ve seen, do you _really_ think I’m boyfriend material?” he said, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He felt the mattress dip slightly as Elsa sat by the side of him, her expression split three ways between compassion, gratitude and exasperation. Her eyes shone with a light that said _‘believe me’_.

“What I see, Jack, is someone who looks like hell because he put himself in harm’s way, to save someone he barely knows from a lifetime of mental torture. If that isn’t fucking _boyfriend material_ , I don’t know what is.”

She reached up a hand and stroked the right side of his face as he gazed half-sleepily at her, and a solitary tear slid down from her right eye. Jack closed his eyes and slightly leaned his head into her hand, the cold touch exuding a strange warmth.

“You need to sleep.”

Jack didn’t argue, he was starting to doze off against her hand. So he slid himself backwards to the other side of his bed, the side that he didn’t sleep on, and slipped under the duvet. Elsa watched him fight to stay awake and gaze at her.

“You can stay if you want.” he murmured, feeling the grip of sleep start to tighten its hold.

“I… I don’t know…” she replied, torn. Part of her wanted to go back to the hospital, part of her wanted to go home. Most of her wanted to stay.

“It’s…your call. Clean…clothes in the wardrobe…if you change your mind.” he managed. He really was fighting to keep his eyes open. Fishing out her phone from her bra, she typed out a message to Kristoff.

_“Jack’s okay. Bruises and cuts, but he’ll be okay. Want me to come back to the hospital? – Elsa”_

The answer came back quicker than she thought, and if she was honest, contained the answer she hoped for.

_“Good to hear he’s okay. Anna says to stay with him. Says she’ll be fine, and tell him thanks for her…and that hospital food sucks. – Kris”_

Turning back to Jack’s sleepy face, she gave him a warm smile.

“Looks like I’m staying. Be right back.” she murmured, and rose from the bed to fish out a T-shirt and pair of sweatpants from the wardrobe, and went into the en-suite bathroom to the wardrobe’s right.

Had he not been too busy fighting his eyelids for control, Jack’s grin would have reached his ears.

* * *

 

_“Good to hear. Thank you for keeping me updated. – Nick”_

Elsa sighed, noting the time as half-past four, and felt the drowsiness of sleep begin to seep into her own eyes and mind. Dressed in a _Hard Work? Deadlines?_  T-shirt and grey sweatpants, she slowly stepped back into the bedroom as she undid her braid and slid under the covers, resting her head on the pillow and staring at the side of Jack’s face, as he laid on his back.

Slowly, she inched her left fingers forward, climbed up the side of his chest and gently stroked along his scars. She just wanted to touch his skin, feel the parts of his body that she had a sneaking suspicion she was the first to see. She expected him to wake up, grab her wrist and move it back.

He did wake up briefly, but rather than push her away, he shuffled to the left and opened his left arm, allowing her to lift her head up and place it upon his chest. The rest of her body followed suit, lining up every inch of her figure against his, and she quietly cursed the material being the only thing between her and his exposed skin.

He turned his head toward her and regarded her with a strange look, and she felt the warm breath on her face as she looked up into his eyes. Dare she risk it? The last time they tried, he ran out of the club.

She decided it was worth a shot. He was holding her close to him after all. And something in his eyes shone with the understanding of what she was about to do, and the acceptance.

Extending her neck up as he lowered his own head, their lips brushed together and met in a light, soft, brief kiss. Just long enough, and gentle enough to say _“I’m here”._

Elsa returned her head to its previous position on his chest, and smiled to herself as the fluffy sensation of sleep mingled with the warm burning in her chest.

It had been a long, long night.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't own My Immortal. Evanescence does.
> 
> Also, that was -a- kiss. Not -the- kiss. Just so you know.


	19. The Morning After

Elsa woke late that morning, at something like eleven thirty.

After the emotional rollercoaster of the previous night, it came as no surprise, and her body still felt tired. Nowhere near as much as when she closed her eyes, seven-ish hours beforehand, but still a reminder of everything that had happened the night before.

Unable to suppress it, a huge yawn overwhelmed her features, screwing her eyes shut as she raised a hand to cover her mouth, and she blinked a few times in the morning sunshine in an attempt to stop herself from drifting back off to the comforting arms of sleep.

It was then that she noticed that Jack wasn’t in the bed with her, as she sleepily traced her delicate fingers over the empty side. She frowned, wondering where he could be. Had he done a disappearing act once more, like at the hospital? Did he wake up that morning, see Elsa’s peaceful sleeping form and freak out, run out of his apartment and disappear out of her life?

She couldn’t help the fear creep into her chest, but the answer wasn’t far away. Literally.

Soft folk rock music danced in the air from the direction of his living room, along with the occasional sound of him mumbling the lyrics to himself. Hoisting her tired form out of the bed, she picked up her phone from the bedside cabinet and slightly stumbled toward the singing, running a sleepy hand through her blonde, bed-swept locks. The smell and the sound of something frying reached her nose and ears, and it caused an instantaneous growl in her stomach, probably loud enough to cow any nearby dogs.

“It’s a long road up to recovery from here…a long way back to the light…” she heard him softly sing to himself as she passed through the doorway into his kitchen, and leant on the doorframe to watch him, smiling to herself.

Jack was stood in front of the oven with his back to her, gently bouncing along to the upbeat music resonating from the miraculously undamaged sound system in his living room. He reached to his right and picked up a large opaque purple jug, poured a thick liquid onto the frying pan and, after a few minutes, tossed the contents of the pan into the air, caught it and then poked it a few times with a spatula.

Elsa gently walked forward and placed her right arm around his waist and pressed her chest into his back, feeling his breath catch in surprise. He turned his head to the left as she rested her chin on his left shoulder, and seizing the opportunity she pressed a soft kiss to his cheek. Jack felt the tingling sensation spread throughout his face as he uttered a soft ‘mmm’, prompting a light giggle from his left.

“Well, good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” he chuckled, returning his attention to the pan.

“Morning,” she yawned a little, looking down at the happily frying food, “oh, pancakes!”

“Thought you might be hungry. I hear it’s polite to offer the lady breakfast when she wakes up in your apartment.”

“And they said chivalry was dead,” she teased, gently squeezing his waist, “erm, do you have coffee?”

“Behind you. I don’t have mocha, sorry. Plain old black coffee here.” he inclined his head in the direction of the coffee machine, which had finished creating the liquid a few minutes before Elsa’s entry.

“Doesn’t matter. Right now, coffee is coffee is coffee. Come to me, o nectar of the gods.” she declared, the last part in a mock-English voice. Jack felt her arm leave his waist and almost instantly missed the touch.

Elsa poured two cups, spooned two sugars into hers along with quite a bit of cream, and made her way to the stool on the other side of the breakfast bar to wait. She noticed that the floor was now empty of the carnage that had been there only last night, except for two black trash bags waiting by the door. She said a silent thank you prayer for this, as she didn’t want to navigate her bare feet through broken glass.

“How long have you been awake?” she asked, sipping from her coffee. Not her usual fare, but right now it delivered the kick she needed.

“Since nine, I think. Wanted to tidy up a little.” he answered, retrieving strawberries, blueberries and bananas from the counter and scooping them into three separate bowls that sat between Elsa’s plate and his. Flipping the pancake once more, he fried it for a minute or two and then slid it onto the rest, before bringing the full plate to the bar along with his coffee.

He had barely laid the plate down before Elsa was stealing three pancakes with her fork, and scooping blueberries from the bowl, a ravenous look in her eyes. Cup paused against his lips; he watched her with a mildly incredulous expression as she smothered her pancakes in syrup, cut off a chunk and popped the forkful in her mouth. Her eyes caught his as a blush appeared in her cheeks.

“What? I said I was starving…” she asked, the question muffled behind a mouthful of pancakes. Jack chuckled behind his cup of coffee, and Elsa silently cursed the cup that hid his smile.

“Sorry, it’s just…it’s been a long time since I’ve cooked for someone, and watched them enjoy it as much as you seem to be.” he lowered his cup as he smiled, and Elsa flushed a little more.

_There’s that smile again._

“You kidding? This is delicious.” she grinned, and Jack felt his heart skip a beat. He basked in the warm feelings that Elsa’s company brought, currently devoid of any anxious tension.

_There’s that grin again._

They sat in appreciative, food-consuming silence, Elsa occasionally making faint moans as she, despite trying to be lady-like, wolfed down her food. In any other situation, Jack would have poked fun, but he wasn’t exactly restraining _himself_ either. Last night was _not_ easy on them.

Still, had someone poked their head through the window they’d have just seen two twenty-one year olds eating breakfast together, one wearing the other’s clothes – and drawing a conclusion from _that_ – and generally just enjoying each other’s company. Stealing glances, appreciative sounds, lots of smiling, that sort of thing.

It was quite sweet, but then Jack had to go and ruin it.

Elsa was about to finish off her last pancake when she felt something ping off her forehead, and out of the corner of her eye she saw a blueberry land on the bar and roll off the edge. Eyes shifting from the plate to Jack’s face, he looked off to the side, giving her innocent.  She narrowed her eyes and smirked.

“Don’t start something you won’t win, Overland.” she threatened, playfully. Jack rolled his eyes and raised his hands in the air, giving her _‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’._

Elsa narrowed her eyes further, and popped the last piece of pancake in her mouth while Jack tried very hard not to move, but the rising mischief in him wasn’t so easily dissuaded. Taking advantage of her momentary change in attention from him to her coffee, he flicked another blueberry which bounced off her cheek.

“Oh, it’s on now. You’re going _down,_ boy!” she cackled, putting the coffee cup down with a clink and grabbing a handful of blueberries, and started throwing them at him, one after the other in a relentless assault.  And for the first time in a long time, Jack burst into laughter as he tried to flee the vicious fruity assault, covering his face with his hands.

Having never uttered anything beyond a chuckle or a snort, the sensation of laughter felt a little alien to him. Initially he thought it was because he never really had anything to laugh about, but after last night, he realised it was because he never really _allowed_ himself to. Old Jack would have called it a heinous crime, and pelted his future self with enough snowballs to bury an army.

It was the cost of living in limbo, but with the outpouring of last night’s suppressed emotions, there was finally a space for laughter.

And how liberating it was.

For Elsa, laughter is a fairly common thing. Hell, Jack made her laugh more often than Anna, and that was when he was trying _not_ to. Deadpan here, sarcastic quip there, it reminded her of a brown-haired, green-eyed boy she used to know in early high school, before he moved to Europe with his parents.

But the sound of full-blown, _please-stop-I-surrender_ laughter emanating from Jack’s lips as it mingled with her own cackles was intoxicating, and she wanted _more_.

And the way to more laughter? More blueberries.

So, she renewed the ferocious barrage with abandon, driving Jack out of the kitchen and into the only place that Elsa was not blocking – his bedroom. Hands protecting his face all the way, he became aware of Elsa’s close proximity, having decided she preferred point-blank range to anything else.   

Jack made a mental note to never challenge her to a snowball fight.

He felt his body go backwards as a pair of hands pushed him onto the bed, and with his eyes clamped shut in mirth he was partially aware of a pair of legs astride his hips, the sound of feminine laughter above his head and something _very warm_ above his pelvis, causing the natural progression of blood to revert to somewhere else.

He opened his eyes just as Elsa dropped the remnants of her ammunition on his face, her eyes glinting with triumph. He just about managed to close his mouth in time before they bounced off his features. Choking on a blueberry would have been _very_ romantic…not.

“Told you not to start something you won’t win, Jack.” she teased, her hands either side of his head while his hands found their way to her hips. Her incredibly long hair draped down the left side of her head, the ends tickling his right arm. He stared at her for a moment, gazing into her cerulean eyes while she lost herself in his, both still letting chuckles loose while appreciating each other’s beauty.

“I guess…that makes you the winner.” Jack murmured a little breathlessly. Whether that was from the defeat, or something entirely different, he wasn’t sure. All he knew was that his heartbeat had become thunderous, and the mirth in his chest had been replaced with a burning ache. Elsa raised an eyebrow along with her permanently-curled mouth, and glanced down his body, further south than his chest.

“Well, to the winner, the spoils.” she replied in a husky, breathless voice. Jack suddenly became very aware of gentle grinding as her head lowered closer to his, and his mind worked furiously as to what to do next.

_What are you looking at me for? You didn’t listen to me last night. Probably a good idea, given that probably the hottest woman in the world is sat astride you_ because _you didn’t listen to me last night._

He moved his right hand and traced it through her hair, and she lowered her face a little more, eyes flitting between his eyes, which had a look of nervousness split with come-hither, and his lips which, although still sporting relics from last night’s fist-fight, still looked perfectly kissable.

Jack endured a surge in the racing of his heart and a new light-headedness as her face, now inches from his, was accompanied by the tingling in his chest as her breasts pressed against his pectorals through their respective shirts. Eyes, mouth, hell – even the breathing all pointed to the same three words they both thought.

_I want you._

Her lips parted as her breathing came as rapid as a waterfall, probably due to the feelings of pleasure that were heating up her body from her hips, and instinctively she brushed her upper lip against his lower. Just enough to taste. Just enough to see how he would respond, showing him the doorway and giving him the option to walk through.

“I guess…this means we’re…boyfriend and girlfriend now…” he whispered against her lips.

“Or…friends with benefits…” came her own breathless reply.

“I prefer the first one…”

“Me too…”

And then, in possibly the worst case of the worst timing of the _worst application of Murphy’s Law_ in history, the sound of Elsa’s phone reached their ears from the kitchen, where she had left it to chase Jack. Elsa’s eyes snapped open and she whimpered, burying her head into his shoulders in dismay.

“Goddammit universe, you can’t make me _this_ horny and then drop a phone call on me!” she whined into the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Yeah…something like that…” Jack could only murmur, still wondering what the fucking hell just happened.

“Sorry.” she murmured, before relinquishing her pinning of him and walking out of the bedroom. Jack was left for a moment to try and make sense of what just happened. First, it started with a couple of blueberries, and before he knew it, she was sat astride him and he was just about to take one hell of a leap. Feeling his heart slowly return to normal, despite the tight feeling in his trousers, he was struck with the feeling that had someone not called her phone; he would have wholly given himself over to the desire burning in his chest.

And boy, he would have liked it. Much more than the feeling of coming so close, only for the universe to screw him over.

Summoning the energy to get up from the bed, he scratched his head to try and center himself as he stumbled toward the kitchen, just as Elsa was finishing the call with a smile on her face.

_Fuck, Elsa. You have no idea what you’re doing to me._

“That was Kristoff. He said the consultant has been to see Anna, and says she’s okay to go home!” she announced, gazing at Jack with a wide beam on her face. Jack couldn’t help but let himself smile too, the minor frustration he was enduring washing away in the face of Elsa’s relief and happiness.

“Good to hear. What’s your plan?” he asked, taking a few deep gulps of lukewarm coffee to try and give himself a kick.

“Erm, I need to go home and pick up some clothes for her. Not like she can leave in a hospital gown.”

“Never a good look.” Jack half-smiled. Elsa’s eyes went from her phone to him, and she rounded the breakfast bar and embraced him in a warm, tight hug that took his breath away. This wasn’t a show-hug like last night. This was an actual, proper, _I-want-to-hold-you_ hug.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For everything. The lift, the repairs, helping my company, saving Anna, just…thank you. I have no idea how I’m going to repay you.” she sighed, nestling herself into his neck. Taken aback by the embrace, and momentarily unsure of what to do, Jack gently wrapped his arms around her and completed the hug.

“You don’t owe me _anything,_ ” Jack replied, feeling a reprimanding tap on his back, “but I’ll call us even after last night and this morning.”

“Well…except for…” she started, trailing off as the heat began to build in her cheeks.

“Heh, yeah. Except for _that.”_ he finished, feeling her giggle coyly in his arms.

_You saved my life not two weeks ago, and you’ve already done so much. If only you knew._

* * *

 

Having both had a shower – Elsa had her water set to hot and Jack… _very_ cold – and changed into more appropriate clothing – Elsa commandeered a pair of his jeans along with the _Hard Work? Deadlines?_  t-shirt, Jack electing for a simple black vest and baggy military trousers – the pair were sat in the Impala on the way to Elsa’s house.

The plan was for Jack to drop her off, so she could bring the Cadillac in case Rapunzel and Eugene were still there. He had offered to drive them all back in the Impala, but given that there would be six people altogether, including Kristoff’s huge frame, it would make more sense if Elsa used her car instead.

Although, she laughed when Jack half-seriously suggested strapping Eugene to the roof.

They were mostly silent in the car, but there was no awkwardness or tension. Rather, they basked in each other’s company, and any words that were to be said were spoken in the form of their entwined fingers on the gearstick.

In Jack’s mind, however, his thoughts were a little more frenetic. Essentially overnight, he had finally accepted the loss of his family three years ago, held Elsa in his bed and – had it not been for Kristoff – probably made love to her that morning. The last time he jumped into something without thinking, it ended badly. It might not happen this time, but he didn’t want to take the chance, especially as he was now her boyfriend.

The last thing he wanted to do was screw things up between them.

“Hell of a weekend.” Elsa sighed, staring out of the window.

“Yeah. What’s gonna happen with Anna?”

“Well, I’m keeping her home for a week or so. She needs familiar surroundings while she comes to terms with…what happened.” she said, unable to articulate what she really meant.

“Think she’s gonna be okay?”

“I hope so. I called Kristoff’s boss while you were in the shower and explained everything, and suggested he have a week off. I think she could use his company.”

“Good call. We’re here.” he announced, as they pulled up near the double-garage.

“Are you following me to the hospital?”

“I don’t know, I should probably get back.” he shrugged, an uncertain look in his eyes.

“Well it’s up to you, but I should warn you that if you’re not there when she comes out, she’s probably going to go all Phase Two on your ass.” she smirked.

“Point taken.”

“I won’t be long.” she smiled, gave his hand one last squeeze then slid out of the Impala. Jack watched her trudge through the snow to her front door, then slid his phone from his military jacket and dialled a number.

“Hey, Thiana? It’s Jack. Yeah, I’m fine. Listen, can I stay with you and Nick for a week or so? Great. Thanks. I’ll explain everything when I see you. Bye.”

He had just hung up when Elsa left the front door clutching a bag of clothes, and flashed him a warm smile with a wave as she trudged over to her Cadillac. Jack slid the Impala into D and drove in a wide circle around the huge snow-covered paved area in front of her house, and waited patiently as he watched the white light pop up in the rear of Elsa’s car, and the Cadillac slowly edge itself backwards out of the garage.

He wondered how she would take it.

* * *

 

Pulling up outside of the hospital, Jack took the parking space to the right of Elsa’s Cadillac and rested on the warm hood of his Impala. Elsa had asked if he wanted to go inside, but Jack didn’t want to push it. So far, his anxiety was playing ball and not going above mild intensity, but he had a suspicion that it was only because he was with her. He wasn’t sure how he would react with her _and_ a hospital ward full of people, so he hung back and waited.

Popping a nicotine mint in his mouth, he screwed his face up when he remembered exactly how foul they tasted. Fighting the urge to spit it out, he felt the cravings begin to abate and found that he had been, for the last ten minutes, subconsciously holding the snowflake pendant around his neck. He found it on the floor when he woke up that morning, and realised that he had pretty much gone twenty-four hours without even noticing its absence.

He felt a little guilty about that, especially as it was pretty much his only possession, aside from the Impala, that tied him to his mother and sister. And yet, it felt like less of a heavy weight and more of a memorial. Less of a painful recollection, and more of a reminder.

Maybe he was starting to get better, but he would need a week or so to make sure.

He became aware of a group of voices from the entrance, and looked up just in time to see Elsa, Anna, Kristoff, Rapunzel and Eugene come out of the door. He rose from the hood and kept his hands in his pockets as he walked towards them, with Elsa noticing him first and inclining her head towards him. Anna went wide-eyed and sprinted off, and was about to tackle Jack over with a hug before he involuntarily recoiled a little.

“Sorry, sorry, I forgot. You don’t like warm hugs.” she grimaced, noticing Jack’s slightly fearful expression.

“No, no. It’s okay. I need to get over it at some point.” he muttered, and psyched himself up with a deep breath. Anna decided to be gentle and embrace him lightly, but the hug intensified a little when he gingerly returned the gesture. She pulled back and grinned into his eyes. Same grin that Sophie had.

“So, I hear you and my sister are an item?” she winked, punching him lightly on the arm. Jack went a little red and scratched the back of his neck.

“Yeah…kinda made it official this morning I guess.” he said shyly.

“Something good came out of last night, then! That makes me feel a whole lot better. Thank you.”

“Don’t stress. Just…take care of yourself.” he reminded, wanting to finish the topic. Kristoff piped up at the back, near the rest of the group.

“You get free coffee when you’re next in ‘Bucks, for doing what you did.” Jack shook his head, making a mental note not to mention that he _hated_ Starbucks coffee. Anna turned, giving him incredulous.

“You never give _me_ free coffee!” she said, her voice fading slightly as she walked over to her fiancée, Elsa taking her place as Jack heard Kristoff respond with _“Yes I do! All the time!”_

“Busted…” he muttered, a wry smile on his face.

“They’re gonna be like that all the way home. Actually, did you want to come? I have lots of black coffee.” she asked, smiling into his eyes and biting her lip as she pinched the hem of his coat. Jack lightly rested his hands on her waist as he looked off to the side.

“I can’t. I’m gonna go home, then I’m gonna stay at my godparents’ house for a week or so.” he announced, partly wishing that he didn’t need to. Elsa cocked her head, a disappointed and concerned expression on her face. Had she said something wrong? Were they going too fast?

“Why?” she asked, settling for the simple question.

“I’m not great up here,” he said, tapping his temple, “and here.”  he finished, tapping his chest.

“Last night…let’s just say a lot of stuff came out and I need to make sense of it all. I kinda need to spend some time with family, get my head on straight.”

“Is this about the boyfriend thing?” she asked in worry, sounding like she was still in fucking high school.

“Kinda. I do want to be your boyfriend, it’s just…the way I am right now, I’m scared I’ll fuck things up. I just need some time to…fuck it. I need to grieve.” he said, becoming tired of being unable to articulate precisely what he meant and just coming out with it.

“Oh…I’m sorry.” Elsa whispered, embracing him in a warm, comforting hug. Jack wrapped his arms around hers, and tried not to let a tear fall in front of the group that was now watching them intently.

“You can talk to me about anything, you know.” she whispered into his ear as he buried his head in her shoulder.

“I know. Just…keep an eye on your emails.” he said, slightly cryptically.

“I will,” she said, pulling back from the hug, “and when you come back, this…”

She leaned forward, lacing her fingers in his hair and pressing her lips to his, the contact sending an electrifying sensation through his mouth and across his face. It was like time stood still around them, that nothing else mattered but the woman meeting her lips with his in a sweet, sweet kiss. Jack melted into her mouth, raising a finger to graze her jawline, and she responded by pressing herself against his body, prompting the second instance of his blood flowing to the south. Lips moving in unison, Jack didn’t care about the stinging sensation from the cuts; he just cared about the fact that he was _fucking kissing Elsa Snowfield_. And his anxiety wasn’t throwing a fit.

That he was kissing, in his mind, the most beautiful creature in the world.

It seemed like it had been over too soon, but when Elsa breathlessly pulled back and gazed into his eyes, he reckoned that if they carried on any longer, the hospital staff would be scraping his jellified form up from the floor.

“…will be waiting for you.” she finished, stroking the side of his face. Jack smiled widely, feeling her brush a thumb across his upper lip. He hadn’t a fucking clue how to respond to _that_ , so he settled for a weak nod. He heard a wolf whistle from somewhere near the back of the group, someone hiss _“Eugene, shush!”_ and a yelp of pain.

“See you soon.” she whispered, letting her hand trace down his limp arm and squeeze his fingers tightly, before walking off to re-join the group.

“Yeah…soon…” Jack murmured, still trying to re-engage his brain, which had vacated the planet when her lips met with his.

He watched the group all file into Elsa’s Cadillac, Anna giving him a thumbs up and a wink, and Elsa waving at him as they pulled out of the parking space and drove off in the direction of home.

He was standing there for about ten minutes before he realised he had completely zoned out.

* * *

 

“Isn’t he coming with us?” Anna asked from the front passenger seat. Elsa shook her head, keeping her eyes on the road.

“He’s staying with family for a few days. He needs time to…” she was about to say _grieve_ , but realised that Jack probably only wanted _her_ to know. At least for the time being.

“…he needs time for himself. It seems important to him.”

“Alright…so long as he comes back. Else I’m gonna go Phase Three on him.”

“What’s Phase Three?” Eugene narrowed his eyes.

“For me to know, Fitzherbert, and you to pray you don’t find out. Speaking of finding out…I notice you’re not wearing your own clothes Elsa...” she teased, a coy look in her eyes.

“Somebody get lucky last night?” Rapunzel snickered. Elsa rolled her eyes.

“Last night, no. This morning, nearly.” she clarified, a slightly frustrated tone in her voice.

“Did he stop? Don’t tell me he cockblocked himself.” Eugene sniggered, nudging Rapunzel who was equally mirthful.

“Actually no. It was Kristoff.” Elsa answered bluntly, relishing the next sequence of events with a dark smile on her face. Anna gasped, and Kristoff’s jaw dropped in uncomprehending surprise.

“What? What did _I_ do?” he said, panicking slightly. He knew what was coming, and steeled himself accordingly.

“Let’s just say that your call came at probably the worst time.” Elsa chuckled, awaiting the vengeance, by proxy, that would befall the unfortunate Kristoff.

The proxy was Anna, who twisted in her seat to slap Kristoff’s legs, punctuating her sentence with each strike.

“I. Told. You. Not. To. Call. Her!” she hissed, berating her future husband.

Elsa knew she shouldn’t enjoy such schadenfreude, but it felt _good._

* * *

 

Having packed clothes, toiletries, CDs, his punch-bag, and pretty much everything he might need for a week away, he found himself about five minutes away from his godparents’ house.

He wondered what would happen. For so long he had operated by himself, relied on no-one but himself. Lived a lonely, isolated life in limbo, preparing to eventually take over as CEO of Nick’s company when his godfather would stand aside. Eschewed friends, dates, pretty much any form of connection that he saw as a weakness, a flaw that could be exploited.

And as though a lightbulb had been switched on, he realised something. He had a family that he had ignored, a life that he had watched and waved to as it passed him by, and in a massive twist of fate, a fucking _girlfriend_ that unknowingly shattered three years of ice in just under two weeks. How she did it, he’ll never know.

Not that he cared, because as he pulled up outside the house and watched Thiana wave happily at him from the door, clad in her usual green, yellow and blue tie-dye dress with bright, electric blue hair he couldn’t escape the optimistic thought…

…that life might, just might be looking up.


	20. Family

Just because Jack was away for a week, didn't mean he was off the grid. In fact, given that the two lovebirds were almost constantly messaging each other, he might as well not have bothered.

He'd always send her a message to say  _'good morning'_ for when she woke, and a message wishing her sweet dreams when it was time to lay her weary head to rest. Like clockwork. That way, Elsa would always wake up with a smile on her face, and go to sleep happy.

They say absence makes the heart grow fonder, which is true, but if you have certain…urges…they become damn near uncontrollable.

So, naturally, when Jack would finally return Elsa would face the decision of a lifetime. Hug, kiss, or jump him? Anna would probably say 'Why not all three? The order can be negotiable. Besides, you were born with a pair of hands and your own bedroom until then', which would make Elsa furiously blush, but she didn't exactly dissuade the idea. So, on occasion, she would disappear to her room and come back a little bit later feeling a touch more relaxed.

She was a twenty-one year old woman with urges, dammit.

Unfortunately, Anna was feeling the after-effects of the attack. Even though she was drugged and could barely remember a thing about that night, she had developed a couple of issues. Sometimes if Kristoff would touch her in a certain place, like her upper arms or shoulders, she would go pale and shrink within herself. Sometimes she would make an excuse to go to the toilet, and come back with a puffy face and slightly red eyes.

Nights were the worst. Anna never used to have nightmares, not even after their parents' death. She just went through the grieving process like any normal person would, and took most other things in her stride. After Saturday night, she would wake up in a cold sweat and tears, having gone through the incident in her dreams. Given that Elsa's room was right next to hers, she would be woken up by the sounds of Anna whimpering and crying in her sleep, along with Kristoff's soothing, comforting tones telling her  _'it's okay, I'm here. You're safe. I'm not going to hurt you. No-one will.'_

Every time it happened, even if it was silly o'clock in the morning, Elsa would send off a quick message to Jack and hope that he would reply. He always did.

_"She's having nightmares again. I wish you were here to hold me. – Elsa x"_

_"They'll pass. You chased mine away, and there is nothing I would love more than to have you in my arms. – Jack x"_

The soft fluffiness that spread from her heart at his words never failed to fend off the helplessness that she felt at Anna's situation. Was this love? She wasn't sure. She hadn't really experienced proper love before, and given that they only knew each other for two weeks, rational thought dictated that it probably wasn't.

Still, the phrase 'love at first sight' existed for a reason, even if between them it was initially contempt.

Kristoff, to his credit, was an incredibly patient man. He knew that only Anna could come to terms with what happened, and even if it meant that sometimes she would shrink away from a kiss, even if it stabbed at his heart and filled him with rage at the would-be rapists, he would put it down to recovery and simply give her a supportive smile.

She would then apologise, and promise that one day she will get better.

If there was one thing that would definitely help, along with Kristoff, it was the fact that Christmas Day was now nine days away. Christmas was always a fun time of year for Anna, and as soon as Elsa noticed that she was beginning to slip into the memories of that night, she would pull out a box of tinsel and tell Anna to go nuts. Boy, did she go nuts. It was like someone had flicked a switch, and then the entire house was covered in tinsel, sometimes even tangled around Anna's giddy form.

Kristoff had to get one up on Elsa, though. He disappeared out of the house on Tuesday morning and, after a few hours, returned with a massive Christmas tree and several boxes worth of decorations. Elsa, being in on the plot, brought Anna into the living room from her bedroom, making sure her eyes were firmly shut. It had to be that way, as Anna was the type to sneak down in the middle of the night as a child and open some of her presents early, so with Elsa's ministrations she had no way to see the surprise before Kristoff was ready.

Elsa mouthed the words  _'are you ready?'_

Kristoff nodded vigorously, a wide grin across his masculine features.

"You can open your eyes now." she whispered in Anna's ear, who gladly obliged.

"A tree?" she said, not quite getting it.

"It's all yours. Decorations are here, lights are here, the tinsel is here. Kristoff and I thought it might help so, go nuts."

Anna's eyes widened to their limit as she squealed with delight, and bounced up and down like a giddy schoolchild. Squeezing her elder sister with a tight embrace, she whispered the words  _'thank you'_ and then promptly rushed off to jump into her fiancée's arms. Kristoff's face sealed the deal. It had only been a couple of days, but for the two of them that were to be betrothed in a year's time, the feeling of being able to touch and hold his love once more had lit up his face like Christmas morning. Elsa snuck a quick photo on her phone of the two lovers in that embrace and sent it off to Jack, who promptly responded.

_"D'awwww. See? Progress. She'll be fine. – Jack x"_

_"What about you? How are you doing? – Elsa x"_

_"Getting there. Thiana's got me putting decorations up for Nick, so he can see them when he comes back tonight. I miss you. – Jack x"_

Elsa felt a rush of warmth, and the sting of longing. She missed him too.

And then she had an idea. If she was feeling the urges, she was going to make damn sure he would be too.

"Be right back, guys." she giggled, a mischievous look dancing upon her face. Anna gave her wink while Kristoff blushed red and pretended to cover his ears.

Practically running into her bedroom, she scoured her wardrobe for the sexiest lingerie she could find, which happened to be a black lace thong with tiny red roses sewn into the fabric, and a black balconette bra that was adorned with the same flowers. Sliding elegantly out of her clothes, she felt the cool air kiss her skin and send tingles across her body, heightening the sensation of arousal. Slipping into the lingerie set, she laid on the bed with her left leg in an arch and her right leg straight, feeling incredibly vulnerable yet _very_  turned on. She wedged the phone against the lamp on her bedside cabinet, pressed the time-delay icon and gave the best sultry expression she could.

Excitement rushed through her as the clicks counted down, and when the phone uttered its characteristic camera click she snatched the phone up from the cabinet, anticipation rushing through her as she attached the photo to a message and sent it on its way.

_"I miss you too. Thought you might want a photo of me ;) – Elsa x"_

She giggled shyly to herself, biting her lip as she waited for the reply, wondering how he would react to the rather steamy photo…and she didn't have to wait long.

_"Fuck. Now I have to 'tidy my room'. Stop being so hot. – Jack x"_

_"Hah! Nice euphemism. Told you I owe you for 'that'. – Elsa x"_

_"Don't you worry. I'll be collecting. – Jack x"_

_"Promise? ;) – Elsa x"_

_"Promise. ;) – Jack x"_

* * *

 

Pritchard slumped in the high backed, old fashioned leather chair facing the fire, one pale hand cradling a glass of bourbon, trying to drink away the Tuesday afternoon.

He came so close. He was inches away from taking his revenge upon Elsa's sister, and screwing both their lives up in the process. The damage done to them would have been incomparable. Except some cretin had to intervene, had to be some kind of fucking white knight and ruin his chance of vengeance.

If only the alleyway wasn't so dark, he could have committed the face to memory and then added him to the list of people to destroy.

He gingerly stroked his neck, where several bruises in the vague form of a handprint still sat on the skin. His father's doing. After returning to the apartment and licking his wounds, his father had arrived to discuss the next moves regarding Fractal Fashion's acquisition, and upon seeing his son's broken nose, bruised and cut face along with Hans's split lips and equally broken nose, his reaction was not one of concern. Nor of mild worry.

In fact, his first question was  _'What have you done?'_

Pritchard honestly expected nothing more than that. His father was always distant, regarded him as less of a son and more of a mild irritation, or even a pawn in a chess game. Nothing like flesh and blood.

What he didn't expect was his father's reaction upon finding out, from Hans of all people, what he had done that night. His father flew into a rage and gripped Pritchard by the neck. He remembered being held against the wall and his father's vice-like hold tightening around him. He remembered staring into his father's eyes, seeing the vitriolic fury that emanated from those yellow irises like flames in the night.

"Your disrespect for the law is growing tedious,  _son_." Richard had said, spitting out the last word like it was poison.

"This acquisition is a very important matter and will bring my company untold power, and I will not have it jeopardized by your inability to  _keep your sorry excuse for a dick in your pants!"_

Pritchard was too busy quailing under his father's gaze to notice Hans' horrified expression.

Being the thirteenth child born to parents that owned a prestigious business law firm, parents that had precious little time for one child, let alone thirteen, Hans knew well the cost of a loveless family. Hell, even his brothers shit on him most of the time, figuratively at least. He was left unable to form relationships without severe difficulty, and it was why he naturally gravitated to Pritchard Black in high school. Someone else who knew what it was like to have parents that, in all likelihood, never even wanted you.

It was actually cowardice.

In schools, you will always have bullies. Some will have their own retinue of lesser bullies. There is always one golden rule, though: within a group of bullies there is always the leader. The one who acts out the most, who has the highest amount of detentions – or if they are really clever, lowest – and is the linchpin to the group. Pritchard was the leader of such a group, but he didn't bully others because he needed to prove himself. He did it because he enjoyed the power. The satisfaction it brings in a perverse way, when your victim is running away from you in tears.

Hans managed to insert himself into that group, through wily acts and bullying others in front of Pritchard, and when Black Advertising announced their partnership with Southernisle and Weselton, it was a match made in hell.

And for a time, it was exactly what Hans felt he needed.

The only difference was that Pritchard was, for all intents and purposes, an irrevocably broken man. They say you mimic your childhood; echo your parents' behaviour and it was certainly true in Pritchard's case. His home life was  _filled_  with fear. Beatings were common, and as the years went by any humanity that had existed in Pritchard had gone. Hammered down by fist or by slap, by leather belt or by baseball bat. So, naturally, he visited fear upon others.

It was this snapshot into Pritchard's home life that Hans had witnessed that Sunday night, seeing Pritchard's own father inches from choking the life out of his son. It had sent a twinge through his chest and a churning in his gut, the sense of foreboding when you start to think you're in over your head. He hadn't had this sensation since the last time Pritchard Black skirted with the law, all those years ago. He figured that it was just a one-off.

Now, he wasn't so sure.

Especially after seeing the terror in the young Snowfield sister's eyes, and the predatory glint in Pritchard's. He was wondering if the dream he had been repeatedly having, of the young boy trapped in black quicksand was about him, and this situation.

"I did it for the company, father!" Pritchard had tried to retort, the words coming out hoarse and suppressed.

"No, you did it for yourself. There will be no more of this, do you hear me? If you even look at a woman the wrong way, if you so much as brush someone with your car, I will have you in a hole so deep you will forget what daylight looks like. Do. I. Make. Myself. Clear?" Richard had growled, tightening his grip. It was all his son could do to nod, pain shooting through his throat and the dwindling oxygen making his head very, very light.

Satisfied with the 'answer', Richard had instantly released his grip and let his son drop to the floor in a heap, watching as he hoarsely coughed and massaged his neck to ease the pain.

"Wednesday will see me acquire another four percent, but Kai Snowfield has been quite irritating in his ministrations to slow us down." Richard announced, like strangling his son was a common occurrence. He had turned to Hans and fixed him with a glare, one that said  _'do as I say or they will never find your body'._

"Your company is to find evidence of any wrongdoing on his part."

"And if there's nothing?" Hans had queried, praying that he would not suffer Richard's wrath like Pritchard just did.

" _Then you know what to do."_  the CEO had hissed, before whirling on his feet and striding out of the door.

The visit had played over and over in Pritchard's mind as he sipped his bourbon that Tuesday afternoon. He couldn't help it though. The feeling of imposing power upon, in his mind, lesser mortals was intoxicating. Even the great Anna Snowfield had quailed in fear that Saturday night.

There was one person that did  _not_  fear him, though. And, in time, she would be his to break. He would just have to wait until  _after_  her company was added to the ranks.

And once it was? She would have no choice but to  _let_  him take her, and it would be the sweetest taste on his lips.

* * *

 

"Looking pretty good, Jack!" Thiana gushed behind him, her eyes roving appreciatively over the tree.

Jack glanced from his finished work to his equally colourful godmother, smiling proudly to himself. Nick's propensity to order ridiculously tall Christmas trees was always a bone of contention within the family, but once all was said and done no-one could deny the beauty of a fully decorated tree.

Jack had gone for an icy theme this year. Inspired by an old book he found in North's library, about a woman called  _The Snow Queen_ , he had elected for silver, light blue and aquamarine tinsel, with white snowflakes and baubles. He had placed some of the lights behind a few snowflakes, giving off a sense that they possessed their own form of illumination.

"Not bad." he nodded, sipping from his beer bottle. He felt Thiana's arm wrap around his waist and felt her squeeze him in a motherly hug. She was only a short little thing, just over five foot, but she had the energy of a toddler. She could stay still in one place easily enough, but movement to another spot was lightning fast and practically instantaneous. It was why Nick called her  _'hummingbird'._

"You have no idea how nice it is to have you here for Christmas." she grinned, sneaking herself under Jack's arm so it rested on her shoulders.

"Yeah, it's…kinda nice. I've missed a lot."

He turned his head downwards to meet his godmother's eyes, a look of regret cascading from his own cobalt blues.

"I know I've been a shit godson, missing birthdays, anniversaries, ignoring you and Nick. I guess…last weekend really opened my eyes. I just wanted to say I'm sorry."

"Look, your reaction was perfectly normal, even if it took you three years. I'm just glad to have my godson back."

"I'm not there yet…"

"No, but you will be. I did want to ask though, what changed? One day you were grumpy, cold Jack, then two weeks later you're semi-normal Jack. Something big must have happened."

"Her name's Elsa." Jack grinned, the familiar warmth filling his heart at the mere mention of her name.

"Oooooo! A girl! Do you have a picture?"

Jack blushed a little and pulled his phone out of his trouser pocket, flicking through some of the more steamy photos and electing for another that, incidentally, he had set to be his screensaver. It was what Anna would call a 'selfie' of Elsa, Jack having requested one from her so he could fall asleep while looking at her face, without enduring a raging hard-on.

Successfully hiding the…personal ones, he handed the phone over to Thiana, who pouted and tapped the screen jealously. Jack raised his eyebrows in amused bewilderment.

"No fair. Now I'm the  _second_  prettiest woman in your life."

"Third, actually. She has a sister called Anna." Jack teased, a wry smirk on his mouth.

Thiana gasped in mock-offense and playfully rapped him on the arm. Jack chuckled, and tried to take his phone back, but Thiana held it away from his reaching hands.

"She's important to you, isn't she?" she grinned, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Very." was Jack's only reply. Nothing more needed to be said.

He just hoped that she felt the same way.

"You gonna tell her about what happened?" Thiana's voice took on a more serious tone, gazing studiously up into Jack's warm expression.

"I think so. I've just got no idea  _how_ , or even if she'll still want to be with me after she knows. I mean, she knows I'm a fuck-up, but when she finds out why, she might just toss me into the 'Defective' box and leave…" he said, unable to help the worrying tone in his voice.

"Nah," his godmother waved dismissively, before placing her hands on her hips, "if she wants to be with you  _now_ , it's because she wants to get to know you more. I think you should let her in. Talk over a coffee or something."

"Hah," he chuckled mirthlessly, "last time I tried that I was a fucking mess. I just couldn't get the words out."

"Then email her. There's a reason most break-ups are by text or email. Not saying you're gonna break up with her, but…you know. It's easier to type than talk." she said, her dark blue, almost purple eyes betraying the wisdom of her years.

Jack nodded, seeing her point. Maybe he  _should_  email her. He said as much outside the hospital, after all. He just hoped it wouldn't cause a rift.

"By the way, have you bought her a Christmas present?"

"Two, actually. One is custom-made, unique to her. The other…I have to call Kai Snowfield tomorrow to organise it." he smiled, wishing he could fast-forward to Christmas Day.

"D'aww, my little incurable romantic. God, it's good to have you back. C'mere you." she gushed, wrapping her arms around him once more. Jack felt the rush of warmth once again as he returned the embrace, resting his cheek upon her head. Gazing at his completed work, he smiled to himself at being able to seemingly enjoy the festive season, as opposed to dread every day that preceded it.

"Oh!" Jack exclaimed, and upon finally being able to grasp his phone he slid out of Thiana's loving cuddle and took a few steps back, holding the phone's camera lens to face the tree. His godmother darted out of the picture, watching Jack as he stepped backwards and forwards, side to side, occasionally crouched or stood on the sofa, and sometimes even completely changed his position from one side of the room to the other.

She watched the smile on his face and the pink tinge to his pale cheeks, and sensed the air around him as he moved, knowing that he had to get it  _just_  right.

She could tell he was in love with this Elsa person, and as the sky darkened outside as evening inexorably became night, she hoped that Elsa felt the same way.

* * *

 

Thiana hummed merrily to herself as she crouched down to peer through the oven's glass door, scrutinizing the beef pot-roast with the intensity normally reserved for snipers waiting for the perfect shot.

Bouncing along to  _I'm Shipping Up to Boston_  as she busied herself with cleaning the kitchen side, her humming matching the accordion in its quintessential Celtic Irish melody, she seemed to have a permanent smile plastered on her face. Family was very important to her, more important than anything else. More important than possessions, than music, pretty much everything. Being able to share the Christmas season with her husband Nicholas and now, her godson Jack, the feeling of having loved ones together was incomparable. She practically had to gag herself when Jack called, asking if he could stay with them for a while.

And then to learn that he had a  _girlfriend?_  That was the icing on the cake.

That's why the pot-roast had to be perfect, the dinner table meticulously laid, and the ambient warmth soothing and comfortable. This would be the first time in three years they could sit down as a family and be  _happy_. Losing Sarah and Sophie in one day, and for all intents and purposes losing her godson for three years had left a sorrowful ache in her heart.

She knew well the warmth that a loving family could bring. Her mother had immigrated to America from Thailand in 1962, itching to start a new life and see the world. With America riding on the economic and cultural boom in the wake of World War Two, the prospect of being able to walk her own path was enchanting. Merely a year after arriving, having learned to fluently speak English and attained employment in a diner in Boston, her mother met an Irish American college student. It was love at first sight. He would come in every day, order the same food, and would just chat with her.

A year later, they were married.

A year after that, Thiana was born.

The family life was full of love and warmth. Thiana's mother loved her husband with every fibre of her being, and the feeling was equally mutual, and they both loved little Thiana with all their hearts. Her father's Irish heritage was a source of pride, and he took delight in treating his daughter to Celtic music and regaling her with old Irish folk tales. Thiana absolutely loved hearing her father talk about his roots.

Four years later, her father was drafted into service for the Vietnam War.

A year after that, Thiana's mother heard a knock on her front door.

Family life for a long time after that was hard, and in a reversal of roles Thiana found herself looking after her mother, rather than the other way around. Eventually, her mother came to terms with her husband's death, and began to look forward. Even though his absence was acutely felt, they could look to the future with hope instead of dread.

In 1990, living in Arendelle City and three years into a friendship with a young Sarah Elizabeth Overland, Thiana met and fell for the man who would later become her fiercely loyal and loving husband, Nicholas St North, heir to the North Pole Toy Industries company. It was a whirlwind romance, he showed her the joy of wonder while she showed him how to be free, and how to balance the responsibilities of his work with taking part in all life had to offer.

It wasn't long before there was talk of having children, but try as they might, they could not do it. Nicholas later found out that there was something wrong down there, and it was fairly likely that they would never be able to have a child. The news hit them like a demolition ball, and there was no surprise that it did put strain on the relationship.

And yet, in 1993, a young boy with a head of shocking white hair was born to Sarah. Thiana fell in love almost immediately, and Sarah knew right then that she wanted the St Norths to be godparents. Thiana didn't even need to think it over.

She had a  _family_ , and a godson to love and spoil.

And ten years later, when Sophie Marie Overland was born, her family grew along with her love.

But then the day came when the Overland family was nearly wiped out, and her godson was reduced to an empty shell. She tried to help. She tried to coax him to grieve, coax him to let loose with the feelings bottled up inside. On some level though, she knew that the journey was his to walk, and his alone. She would be there at the end, to greet him with open arms, should the day ever come when he was able to grieve.

And three years later, she received his call. No other present at Christmas would be comparable. Her godson had returned, and they were a family again.

All thanks to one very special woman, who went by the name of Elsa.

"The tree looks lovely, hummingbird! Did you do this?"

Thiana's heart soared and she threw down her cloth, rushing into the living room into the waiting arms of her husband. He had only been gone a few days, but Nicholas's huge, jolly form was always missed.

"Nope. Jack did it!" she grinned.

"Jack is here? Where?" North's eyes went wide. He did  _not_  expect that.

"He's in his room. He called on Sunday, asking if he could stay with us for a week. I told him it was okay."

Nicholas's smile broadened, and he effortlessly picked up his wife in his arms, chuckling happily to himself.

"I knew he would be okay. What changed?"

"He's in love, Nick. He doesn't know it yet, but I can tell. Her name is-"

"Elsa Snowfield." Nicholas grinned knowingly, appreciating the surprised look dancing on Thiana's bright features.

"How did you know?"

"I'll tell you later. Right now, I just want to spend some time with you. It's been a strange week."

"Perfect. Dinner is nearly ready…although I was thinking. What if we invite Elsa to spend Christmas Day with us? I'm sure Jack would be over the moon."

"Sounds like a fantastic idea, hummingbird."

* * *

 

_"Nice! I like the blues and silvers. Anna thinks hers is better. – Elsa x"_

_"Prove it. – Jack x"_

Jack waited for the reply, the competitive side to him bristling with anticipation.

_"She says, and I quote: I see your winter tree, and I raise you AWESOME TREE! – Elsa x"_

He tapped the attached photo and raised an eyebrow as a blur of green, red and gold filled his screen, the tree's sides and tip consigned to oblivion by the insufficient size of the smartphone. Anna did a good job, going for the traditional look rather than a specific theme. She was definitely old-fashioned.

_"Pfft. I prefer mine. – Jack x"_

_"Don't tell Anna, but I do too. Blue is my favourite colour. Can't wait to see you. – Elsa x"_

Jack felt the familiar warmth and ache burn in his chest reading Elsa's message. His lips automatically recalled the kiss outside the hospital, the feeling of her mouth against his and the softness of her skin under his fingertips. The magnetic attraction between her body and his as they pressed together.

And then, he had an impish, mischievous idea. Checking to see the door to his room was locked, and listening intently for the sounds that indicated Thiana would  _not_  burst into his room, he pulled off his sleeveless navy blue shirt and held the phone's lens to the right of him at maximum distance, positioning himself so his scars were mostly hidden on the other side, away from the immortalizing mechanical eyes of the camera.

Aside from Aster, who kind of  _needed_  to have Jack shirtless in order to tattoo him, Elsa was the only person he would allow to see the scars, but with her eyes only. Not on a screen that Anna could easily steal.

Taking the picture, he attached it to a message and mischievously anticipated the reply, wondering how Elsa would take it.

_"Goddammit Jack. Now I have to tidy my room. I hope you're happy. ;) – Elsa x"_

_"Lol. Vengeance is mine. Goodnight. – Jack x"_

_"Goodnight, Jack! – Elsa x"_

_"Love you_ |  
 _"Love yo_ |  
" _Love y_ |  
" _Love_ |  
 _"Lo_ |  
 _"_  |

_"Sweet dreams. – Jack x"_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope people don't misconstrue the pictures thing. It's just what lovebirds with smartphones do in this day and age.
> 
> I also tried to accurately incorporate Thiana's past into history. I realise some liberties may have been taken. If people have a problem with that, then I apologise.


	21. Cards on the Table

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's another mature warning. Not like The Longest Night, quite the opposite. I'm guessing you catch my drift. In any case, if you're not of the right age (which you should be, clicking on an M-rated story) shoo. If you're not, and you're still reading...welp. I gave y'all a heads up.
> 
> Long chapter ahead, and it took me an extra day to get it done 'cause I wanted it done right.

It was exactly the message Elsa needed, and one that took her completely by surprise.

The board meeting held every Wednesday tired her out so, so much. It was like a bunch of kids in a room, panicking that someone was going to take their toys away. If Elsa was honest, it made her incredibly angry. She knew they were freaking out because two of the members were shareholders, and those shares were now firmly in the grasp of Black. Those members hadn’t turned up to the meeting today.

It came as no surprise that one of the missing people was the woman with the wispy hair.

She wasn’t angry because they were freaking out. She was angry because they seemed content to bicker amongst themselves rather than work out what to do.

Leaving the meeting with one hell of a headache and frustration burning in her chest, she had dived into her handbag once the first few notes of _Stockholm Syndrome_ resonated from the phone and eagerly checked the notifications.

She had a message, alright, but it was from an unknown number. She had hesitated for a moment. Dare she press the icon? It could be bad, it could be good.

_Schrodinger’s Message, anyone?_

Giving in to her curiosity, she raised her eyebrows when she read the message, and blushed a deep, deep red at the end.

_“Hello! You don’t know me, but my name is Thiana St North. I’m Jack’s godmother. I…stole his phone while he was in the shower, and I hope you don’t mind that I copied your number. I wanted to ask if you, your sister, and her fiancée would like to join us for Christmas Day? I understand if you already have plans. – Thiana x-x-x_

_P.S. I must apologise for accidentally scrolling through your private messages, but where did you buy that lingerie? Seriously, if I had your body at forty eight, I’d be flaunting that set.”_

If humans were capable of spontaneous combustion, Elsa would probably be going nuclear; her cheeks were _that_ hot. She typed out a reply, completely bowled over by the forthrightness of Jack’s godmother.

_“It’s nice to make your acquaintance. I would love to join you then, and I’m sure Anna and Kristoff will too. I will check to see if they have not made any plans. Regarding the last point, I will remind Jack to set a password on his phone, but thank you for the compliment! – Elsa”_

The reply came back shortly before she entered Kai’s office, and the blushing then turned into a rush of flattering warmth.

_“Lovely! Look forward to seeing you then. He did set a password, actually. 3572. I just know how he thinks. – Thiana x-x-x”_

“Three five seven two…” she muttered to herself, pausing just outside Kai’s door. She switched over to the keypad, and typed the numbers in.

_DKRB? That makes no sense. FJQC? I guess it’s cryptic enough. E…_

Then it hit her.

_E-L-S-A._

* * *

 

“You want to play baseball?” Jack regarded his godfather with an eyebrow raised, Spock-style.

He was in the middle of writing a letter. Technically, he had only just started it. In fact, he had only managed to get the first two words down. The last Friday before Christmas Day and he _really_ wanted to get this letter finished.

“No, I want us to play catch.” Nick smiled, tossing a baseball from one gloved hand to the other, gazing at his godson expectantly.

“Okay. You want to play catch.” He gave Nick incredulity.

“Yes.”

“In the snow.”

“I’m fairly sure you aren’t bothered by the cold, Jack.”

“Nick, I want to write this letter…”

“It can wait for an hour. It’s eleven in the morning, you’ve been up here for two hours, and you’ve only managed ‘Dear Elsa’. A break will do you good.”

Jack leaned back into the worn office chair, situated in Nicholas’s study. He twirled the ball-point pen in his fingers like a drummer showing off with his sticks, wondering if he should indulge himself.

“Alright.” he sighed.

Nick grinned widely, and turned to make his way out into the back yard. Jack watched after him for a moment, and then glanced thoughtfully at the practically empty piece of paper. Maybe he could use a change of scenery; it might get his brain to work.

Five minutes after leaving the study, Jack found himself outside in the snow with his godfather, tossing a baseball back and forth. It was one of Nick’s favourite methods for when he needed to think, so he could focus his mind on one thing while it processed everything else on its own. A lot of the profitable ideas for his company were born from tossing a ball between himself and his wife.

“So,” Nick broke the silence, catching the ball in his glove and fluidly throwing it right back, “what’s the status with Fractal Fashion?”

Jack tensed his jaw, catching and returning the ball slightly more forcefully than previously.

“Like clockwork, so far. Black has eight percent of their shares. Next week, twelve.”

“And their…flunkies?”

“Quiet. That’s what worries me.” Jack grimaced darkly.

“I know, but we won’t know what happens until it happens. Do you have any ideas on how to solve the problem?” North asked, with deep interest. Jack shrugged a little and looked off to the side.

“A couple. Kai is the majority shareholder, I think around twenty six percent or so. He’s the only thing standing in the way.”

“And that makes him a target.” Nick observed. Jack nodded grimly.

“Yep. Anything happens to him, those shares revert to Elsa. Which then makes _her_ a target.”

“Right, and your solution?”

“Kai sells his shares to me.” he announced, letting the words drop. Nick paused mid-throw, narrowing his eyes.

“But that makes _you_ a target.”

“That’s the beauty of it. If Elsa is no longer the majority shareholder, it takes her out of their crosshairs. I have the majority stock, and fix it so they don’t know it’s me. At least, until I can work out how to burn Black Advertising to the ground for good.” Jack clarified, fierce determination in the final sentence.

“How will you keep it concealed?”

“Shell corporations, with a few overseas banks too. If I can pull it off, Black will be chasing my shares for months. One company has the shares, and the funds are in the bank under a fake name. Couple of weeks later, I trade them to another company, and another fake bank. If it goes the way I want it to, by the time Black makes a move to acquire the shares from the… _You Suck_ _Corporation_ , they’ve already moved to another shell company.”

“Clever, Jack, but complicated…and very, very risky. If, somehow, Black finds out you have the shares…” Nick began but could not finish. Jack knew the risks all too well.

“I know. It means I’ll be walking around with a bulls-eye on my back. There’s another option, though. A merger.” Jack offered, trying to cut the tension. Nick raised his eyebrows into his hair.

“Between us and Fractal Fashion? A toy company and a fashion company? Jack, that’s like…”

“Putting peanut butter and jelly together, I know. We all know how _that_ turned out. Nick, it’d be a conglomerate. Hell, Black Advertising is a conglomerate…or a virus…” he bitterly spat out the last part.

Nick relaxed his throwing arm, and with three fingers supporting the ball he stroked his impressive beard, regarding his godson in deep thought.

“You’ve thought long and hard about this, haven’t you.” he observed, adjusting his posture.

“Yep,” Jack smiled proudly, “I even have names for the shell companies. One is called: ‘ _You Snooze, You Lose’ Bedroom Furniture,_ and another’s gonna be called: ‘ _Better Luck Next Time Asshole’ Betting Company._ ”

North laughed heartily, raising his head to the sky as he let the guffaws loose. Jack couldn’t help but snicker along with him.

“There’s the Jackson Overland bravado we all missed.” his godfather finished through lingering chuckles, before taking several steps forward and placing his hands on Jack’s shoulders, completely covering them with his huge palms.

“She is important to you, isn’t she?” Nick asked, gazing into his godson’s cobalt blue eyes.

“She gave me back my life. Whatever she thinks she owes me, I owe her way more.” Jack declared, meaning _every single word._ Nick squeezed his shoulders, wearing a broad smile, and then turned to resume the game.

“Then don’t you think you’ve spent long enough in this house, Jack?” he rumbled, a smile curling his bearded mouth and a twinkle in his eyes. Jack looked up at him blankly, and then to the left, wondering how he should respond. He didn’t know.

For the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a plan.

“I…I’m not sure.” he muttered, half-heartedly raising a gloved hand to catch the ball that had sailed past the other side of his head.

“I do. I’ve been watching you for three days, now, and Thiana a lot longer than that. You’re surgically attached to your phone, and every now and then you glance to the front door. This is going to sound incredibly…how do you put it…cheesy, but your heart is healing faster than I had hoped, and it wants to spread its wings. Go. Go and be with her.” North finished, holding his hands behind his back and a knowing expression on his jolly face.

Jack smiled widely, knowing that North was right. Every time he received a message from Elsa, he had to fight the urge to dive out of the door, jump in the Impala and break the speed limit to her house.

 “There’s something I have to do first.” he said, understanding in his eyes as he hopped up the two steps leading into the house and strode toward the study.

_Should be about midday now. I’m gonna write the letter, drop by Fractal Fashion on the way to the supermarket, and go say hi to Elsa._

North watched after him for a moment or two, and then pulled his cell phone out from the broad brown corduroys he was wearing. Tapping a single speed-dial button, he raised it to his ear and waited for a familiar voice to answer.

“Phil? Start the paperwork. I believe he’s ready.”

* * *

 

Kai Snowfield was in his office, as always, currently munching on a ham-salad-on-white sandwich, poring over that week’s sales reports. The _Olaf the Snowman_ clothing range was being snapped off the shelves faster than the manufacturers could create it, and had the looming threat of acquisition not been sitting in the back of his mind, he’d be breaking out the vintage cognac that was hidden in his desk drawer.

A drink for another day, he had decided, just as the internal telephone rang in his ears, startling his mind and nearly making him drop the sandwich.

_“Mr Snowfield, sir, there’s a representative from North Pole here to see you.”_

“Does he have an appoint…wait, what am I saying? Let him in.” Kai shook his head exasperatedly at his initial automatic response.

Seconds later, Jack poked his head through the doors, greeting Kai with a business-like smile.

“Ah, Mr Overland! Come in, sorry. You caught me having lunch.” He rose from his chair, quickly dusting off sandwich crumbs from his hand before offering it to the young heir. Jack grasped it firmly, a look of mild surprise on his face.

“Want me to come back?” he said, inclining his head toward the remnants of Kai’s food. The CEO shook his head vigorously, gesturing to an empty seat.

“No, no. It can wait. What can I do for you?” he asked, returning to his own chair. Jack took a deep breath, wondering how he was going to put across his proposal. In Kai’s position, he would definitely prefer candour over small-talk.

“You told me you were a majority shareholder when I was last in this room, that’s still the case?” Jack asked, leaning back into the chair, crossing his legs just like last time, and fixing Kai with a mildly intense gaze.

“As far as I know, yes. I take it you’re aware that Black has stayed true to his routine?” Kai nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

“Yeah, but that’s not why I’m here. I’m guessing you’ve probably read everything in the folder I left?”

“Of course. It was quite enlightening. I didn’t know your father’s company-”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Jack cut him off before he could delve further.

“O…of course?” Kai was not used to interruptions, especially ones to ask questions of such a nature.

“Do you have anything that Southernisle and Weselton can use against you?”

The question hung in the air like a particularly heavy weight, and for a short time, Kai was unable to answer.

“Nothing I can think of right now. That’s a good thing, no?” was the eventual reply.

“No.” Jack declared, frowning with concern. Kai looked worriedly at him, so Jack inhaled rapidly through his nose before he spoke once more.

“If they can’t find anything they can blackmail you with, they make something. I need you to be honest with me – has anything out of place happened to you since Black’s toe-hold purchase?”

Kai didn’t answer, but the horrid realisation that dawned on his face, his slumping of his back, and the hand that came up in self-reproachful exasperation told Jack all he needed to know.

“Tell me.”

“It was two nights ago. I was driving home from work when I saw this woman crouched against a street light, crying. Initially I thought it was my niece, as she was wearing a similar braid, so I got out of the car to help. I was wrong in thinking it was Elsa, but she had so many bruises on her face. I couldn’t help but pity her, so I offered to drive her back to the police station. When we arrived, she thanked me for my help and tried to kiss me, but I pulled away. I thought she was just an incredibly damaged and confused girl, so I paid the kiss no mind.”

“And?”

“Last night, on my way home I stopped by the police station to enquire as to how the lady was, but when the desk officer heard my description, he told me she was a known _‘lady of the night’._ ”

_So he unknowingly had a hooker in his car on Wednesday night._

“What does this mean?” Kai asked, raising his head from his hand and fixing Jack with an uncomfortable expression.

“It means they’re coming for you. As the majority shareholder, and the only person that can stop them reaching the supermajority amendment, you’re a threat. Southernisle are pretty good at removing threats.”

“Which means the shares will revert to Elsa…” the realisation creeping into Kai’s thoughts.

“…which makes her the next target.” Jack grimly finished.

“Shit…” Kai blurted out. Jack flinched, taken aback by the curse. Kai always seemed so mild-mannered, it was like hearing Nick or Thiana drop the F-bomb.

“I don’t know how you’re gonna take this, but here goes. I’ll buy your stake in the company.” he announced, letting the proposal hang in the air for a minute. Kai’s eyes went wide, and his jaw dropped a little.

“Mr Overland…do you even know how much those shares are worth?”

“I do.” he responded curtly.

“Do you even possess the funds needed?” He wasn’t going to let it go. Jack pinched his nose and sighed in exasperation, and tried to hide the frustration in his voice.

_I know they’re not worth painting a target on your niece’s back, Kai._

“Mr Snowfield, I really don’t want to explain myself so you’re just going to have to trust me.” he said, praying that Kai would not push it further. He couldn’t blame the man’s reluctance, but his questions were starting to feel a little _too_ prying.

“I’m not sure that I do, Mr Overland. For all intents and purposes, you’re doing exactly what Black intends to do.” Kai spoke, an edge of distrust and suspicion in his voice. That was it; Jack did away with the nice-guy façade and brought out the big guns. He rose from his chair, placed both hands on Kai’s desk and fixed him with a glare.

“Okay. I’m gonna forget that you just compared me to that asshole. You already know what happened to the majority shareholders in my folder, right? I’m proposing a way to keep the shares away from Black’s hands long enough for us to find a way to bring him _down_ , but in order to do that, you have to sell me your stake.”

Kai was unmoved. Exhaling deeply, he pushed himself off from his executive chair and walked solemnly over to the windows, placing his right hand on his waist and his left forearm against the window frame, leaning against it as he collected his thoughts. Jack straightened up, and with his arms folded he sat against the desk facing the pensive, tormented CEO.

“It’s not that simple, Mr Overland.”

He glanced at Jack who wore an expression of _‘Are you going to tell me or what?’._ Sighing, he began to elaborate.

“Fractal Fashion was founded by my brother. It was his pride and joy, his baby, the jewel in his crown.  I remember when it took off, he was so proud. Unfortunately, he was too proud. You see, when we were children, his toys were his and my toys were mine, and I was not allowed to play with his toys. He wouldn’t let me, because they were _his_. That mentality carried on into later life, when he founded the company. He could not delegate responsibilities, he always took on more than he could handle, simply because it was _his_ company.”

Jack nodded slowly and knowingly. Déjà vu.

“My brother was a good man, Mr Overland. I know why he created the company, as a legacy for his daughters, and _only_ for them. He would not suffer outsiders to interfere, which is why all of our shares are held by members of the company.”

Kai turned his gaze towards Jack, who wore an understanding but impassive expression.

“The shares that I hold are not mine. They are Elsa’s. They are her father’s gift, her stake in the company. I do not feel comfortable selling part of Elsa’s livelihood to you.”

Jack pinched his nose. It was his own fault; he should have been more forthcoming from the start. Then he could have avoided the guilty feeling in his stomach.

“Kai, I’m not _keeping_ the shares.” he clarified, a little more exasperatedly than he should have done.

“I’m sorry?” Kai frowned, not quite getting it. Jack suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“This is my plan. I set up six, maybe eight shell companies. The first one buys your shares, then after a week, the second one does. Soon as the eighth company buys them, they go back to the first. Catch my drift?”

Kai nodded.

“If it works, then I have Black constantly chasing the magic majority shares for a while, until we can find a way to get him to back the hell off. When we do, the shares revert to Elsa for the price I bought them for, even if they are worth double. If they are worth less, she gets them for less. See where I’m going with this? I’m not permanently buying a stake in your company. I’m making sure that what’s going to happen to you won’t happen to _her._ ”

“What _will_ happen to me?” Kai asked nervously.

“If they do the same thing they always did, they’ll force you to resign and leak the evidence.”

In the silent, uncomfortable minutes that followed, Jack starkly remembered something that his English teacher said in high school:

  _‘Words are powerful; they are more than a simple method of communication. Words can create, or they can destroy. They can heal, or they can harm. You can lift someone’s spirits with a well-chosen sentence, or you can break them.’_

 He knew his teacher had spoken the truth; in one sentence Kai had gone from mild-mannered, strong and protective to a crestfallen, downcast and terrified. He had an idea of what was going through the CEO’s mind; he would be forced to leave the company he had so lovingly tended to over the years, and lies manufactured by Southernisle would be leaked to the press. His name and his reputation would be dragged through the mud. Rumours would spread, and there was the possibility that Fractal Fashion would catch some of the fallout.

This was the effect of a Black Advertising acquisition.

“I’ll leave you to think. I’m also going to give Elsa the respect she deserves by running the idea past her. You have my godfather’s number.” he solemnly spoke, before quietly turning to leave the room. Before he could slip through the door, however, Kai’s voice from behind gave him pause.

“Why are you doing this? Why do you want to help?” the suddenly ten-years-older CEO asked, in pained confusion. Jack turned to fix him with a fierce gaze.

“I have my reasons, Kai. One of them is your niece.”

* * *

 

Sat at home sipping her mocha, with her feet resting on the coffee table, Elsa’s mind ticked as she stared at the movie on her television screen. She didn’t really know _what_ the movie was about, vampires and sparkling and smouldering looks or some such. She wasn’t really paying attention.

Her phone had been decidedly silent that Friday. She could figure Anna’s quietness, Kristoff had taken her for some retail therapy and dinner at his place, and he intimated that she might stay over…after promising that ‘nothing would happen’ of course. Kai rarely sent messages out unless they were important, or related to the company.

That left Jack, who hadn’t said much since the usual _‘Good Morning’_ message she received at about nine o’clock that morning. It left her feeling a little alone, and the sensation was not helped by the silence in her house.

Silence, however, that was disturbed by a knock at her door. Thinking it was Anna, Elsa merely called out, content to remain with her thoughts.

“It’s open!”

Returning to her mental processing, she sipped her mocha once more and then nearly spat it out as her phone vibrated on the wooden table. The first sign of activity since that morning. Hastily picking up the whirring device, she took it off standby and hit the notification. It was a picture of her front door, and a message underneath.

_“No it isn’t. – Jack x”_

Elsa frowned for a moment, then her eyes widened with a gasp as she realised exactly what that meant. Nearly spilling her mocha as she quickly placed it on the coffee table, and practically tossing her phone across the room, she darted to the front door and opened it as wide as it would allow.

Jack stood on the other side, clutching two plastic bags of shopping and wearing one hell of a smirk on his face.

“Um, surprise?” he said bashfully.

Elsa didn’t speak, nor did she even make a sound. Instead, she surged forward, wrapped her arms around his head to entwine her fingers in his snow white hair, and pulled his lips towards hers for what was, quite possibly, one of the deepest kisses in history. Electrifying tingles shot through the contact, driving them both to deepen the kiss as Elsa, with one hand holding his head in place moved her other hand down to the front of his jacket, gripped the material and pulled him inside her house. Jack had no choice but to comply, his hands weren’t responding to any mental orders other than ‘hold the bags’ and his legs completely at Elsa’s mercy.

That kiss was way more powerful than the one outside the hospital, but just like before, it took his breath away.

Kicking the door closed with a partly-obedient foot, Jack let the handles of the plastic bags slip through his fingers and land with a crinkly thud on her laminate floor, so he could wrap his arms around Elsa’s chest and hold her against him once more. He was pretty sure he could _feel_ Elsa’s heartbeat thunder in unison with his own.

One of them had to pull away for breath, though, and it was her.

“What’s in the bags?” she asked breathlessly, her head slightly inclining towards the floor.

“I was going…to cook dinner…” he answered, barely even registering the question.

“Not right now, you’re not.” she told him, with the weight of an order.

“Why not?” he asked, still fighting for breath. Given the welcome he just received, the answer should have been clear.

“I haven’t received my victory spoils.” she smiled, a husky tone to her voice and an undefinable look in her icy eyes. Jack smirked, before pressing his lips to hers once more, content to just breathe through his nose so as not to break the passionate embrace. He let Elsa nearly rip apart his jacket, possessing just enough mental clarity to thank God for popper buttons. Letting it slide off his arms and hearing her toss it to the floor, he slid his fingers under her grey fluffy sweater, the contact of his cold hands shooting up her spine and causing her to gasp in his mouth.

The sudden sensation kicked her legs into action, and with her arms over his shoulders she leapt up and wrapped her legs around his hips, the arms once sending the nerves in her back into a hysteria quickly dropping down to her rear to support the sudden movement.

“A little warning, next time?” he whispered into her lips, prompting a cheeky giggle.

He staggered forward into the house towards what he thought was the breakfast bar he glimpsed when the front door was opened, and lifting her onto the nearby stool, he broke the kiss to pull off her sweater as she responded in kind, unbuttoning and swiftly pulling off the smart shirt he had worn for the meeting with Kai with ferocious abandon. Both panting like animals in heat, his gaze locked with hers, sending the same invisible thought between their eyes, the same three words unspoken in Jack’s bedroom six days ago.

She pressed her pelvis close to his, and the feeling of his erection sent her already raging hunger into overdrive, and it wasn’t helped by Jack deciding to go straight for one of the most acutely sensitive parts of her body: her neck. She gasped and moaned in pleasure as he planted kiss after kiss all the way down from her jaw to her collarbone, interspersing it with the occasional nibble.

“Fucking hell…” she whispered breathlessly, closing her eyes and letting the sensations overwhelm her, entwining his hair between her fingers and gripping it tightly to keep him there.

This wasn’t slow or gentle. It was purely animalistic, passionate, _I-want_ - _you_ lust. In fact, Elsa was pretty sure _something_ had been knocked over in the heat of the moment. Not that she cared; it would only be a case of wanton destruction in the pursuit of sexual release. The product of six days of naughty pictures, of euphemisms and disappearances to the bedroom. The limit of what they could take, reached and broken in one fell swoop.

“Seriously…Jack…if you keep doing that, I’m going to come right here, right now…” she moaned in half-protest, not totally against the idea.

“That’s a bad thing…why?” he teased against her shoulder, eliciting another moan.

“Bedroom. Now. That way,” she pointed half-heartedly to her left, “first door on the right. Our first time will _not_ be on a fucking stool.”

Jack received the message loud and clear, so he pulled her legs around him once more and lifted her from the stool, stumbling slightly in the following of her rather emphatic directions. Reaching the desired destination, he kicked _that_ door closed behind him as Elsa unwrapped her legs from his waist, her hands releasing his hair to fumble for the button to his black trousers, eager to release what lay inside. She had to pause briefly as, with lightning speed, Jack had pulled off her sleeveless blue top _and_ her sweater, and unbuttoned her black denim jeans, exposing her nearly naked body for only him to see.

“You’re wearing that lingerie…” he murmured with a wild grin.

“Yup. No cold showers for you.” she winked, wiggling her eyebrows tauntingly, as she was finally able to pull down his trousers and rub her hand against the bulge in his boxer shorts. Slowly, at first, but building in speed and length as the desire for touch grew more powerful.

“I’m pretty sure,” he managed, the sensation beginning to weaken his legs even more and drive his mind wild, “I’m well beyond that point.”

Elsa’s only response was to lace a finger into the elastic hem of his shorts, and drag him towards her bed with a playful expression and a biting of her lip. He didn’t know what came over him at that point, he could only assume that up until then he had been partly restraining himself, letting her take the lead. Right now, that restraint had been broken.

With a grunt of effort he crouched slightly as he wrapped his hands around her buttocks, bodily lifting her against him, Elsa squealing slightly with the surprise show of domination. He felt the smooth skin of her cheeks against his fingers, and being able to put his hands there for the first time was so damn sweet. As was pressing her already soaking thong against his boxers, eliciting yet more moans from their mouths as they gave up trying to kiss each other over the sounds of pleasure escaping their throats.

Striding forward, he lifted one knee onto her bed and used it to climb up onto the mattress, laying her down and diverting his mouth to the sweet spot on the other side of her neck, while his hands slid under her back. The combination of the second shock of cold fingertips, along with the little circles he made with his tongue, the tiny bites and the wet kisses caused her to moan louder than ever before, and for a few seconds she wanted him to calm down.

He would give her no respite, though. Finding the clasp of her bra, he deftly unhooked it, removed it from her body and tossed it to god-knows where. Moving one hand to massage her right breast, the fingers teasing the nipple, he cupped her left breast with the other hand as he traced a line of kisses down from her neck, interspersing it with the occasional light lick, until finally his mouth enclosed upon the erect nipple.

Elsa gasped and screwed her eyes shut, her hands unsure of what to do until she had to mentally shout at them to do _something_. Her left hand entwining itself with his hair, her right hand stretched down to stroke his length, still hidden by the boxers. Her prize, unclaimed from the Sunday morning. Feeling him release her breasts, his tongue traced a line down the centre of her naked torso, circling her navel once before reaching the hem of her thong. She wasn’t sure how much more she could take of the relentlessly pleasurable shocks coursing through her body.

She was about to find out. Lacing his fingers around her underwear, he slowly pulled it down her legs and tossed _that_ somewhere they didn’t care, and with the flicker of realisation as to what he was about to do, she raised her hands to the pillows on either side of her head and gripped tightly, just before his tongue reached her bud.

“Holy shit…” she managed to gasp, the acute sensations of pleasure shooting from the point of contact to the rest of her body, involuntarily arching her back and grinding her hips against his mouth, her left hand automatically reaching down to his head to _keep the fucker doing what he was doing_. Jack wrapped his arms around her thighs and held them tightly, making sure that the intense contact was not broken by her involuntary movements. She expected some form of foreplay, but not like _this_.

Jack smiled to himself as he felt her grind against his mouth, feeling a surge of pride along with everything else that, after three years, he’s still got it. Elsa’s moans became louder and more frequent, and her breaths came faster and shallower until shouting his name, she climaxed, shuddering against his face and gripping his hair so tightly, he thought he was going to end up with a bald patch afterwards.

He looked up with a smirk at her wide eyes, hearing her pant as she went through the aftershocks, and was partly able to discern the breathless whisper of _“My turn”,_ just before he felt her hands cup either side of his face and pull his lips up to hers, feeling her tongue slide in and out of his mouth sending tingles along his lips. She pushed him over onto his back and lowered her body against his, aching to feel as much of his skin as possible against her own. Even the scars. This was what they had been craving for six days, the physical attention, the overarching need for each other’s touch. Pulling away from his kiss and sitting upright, she grasped the hem of his boxer shorts and jerked then downwards.

Watching Elsa sat astride him, one singular thought crashed through the light-headedness that occupied his mind.

She was absolutely perfect to him. From the platinum blonde braid-free hair, the smooth paleness of her skin, those cerulean eyes that were staring at him with passionate desire, those small but perky breasts of hers, and how every single curve of her currently naked body was, in his mind, completely and utterly entrancing. Of all the men in the world, she was making love to _him._

And that made him feel like the luckiest guy in the history of mankind.

“What?” she asked shyly, feeling the intensity, “you’re staring at me…”

“Sorry, it’s just…you are so beautiful…” he murmured breathlessly. Both of them flushed a deep tomato colour at his words…and both of their jaws dropped when Elsa managed to successfully guide him inside her.

Her eyes widened to their limit as she took a deep intake of breath, and felt nearly all of the muscles in her body contract with the pleasure that was heating her up from the inside, starting from the point of entry all the way to her extremities.

“Fucking hell!” she gasped, slowly lowering herself down, knowing that if she were to go any faster with his entry, they would probably both climax right then. She felt him slowly begin to fill her core, and it drove all other thoughts from her mind – _if she had any at that point_ – except the one commanding her hips to _move_. And they did. Slowly. Achingly. Jack tried to focus on something else in his mind to keep him from losing himself right then. Trigonometry. Business studies. Snowflake designs. _Anything_ to distract him from being overcome by the warm, velvety feeling that threatened to push him over the edge.

And when her hips moved, so did his. In perfect unison.

She lowered her body, so her chest pressed against his, her sensitive buds feeling the scars that ran across his torso. He cupped her face with his hands as she did the same with his, and their lips met in a hungry, passionate embrace, tongues clashing and lips bruising, gasps uttered and moans escaping. He felt the hot warmth of her head in his hands, along with the soft, silky strands of hair between his fingers, and the touch of her forehead against his as they once more gave up on the kissing, the moans and sounds coming too frequently.

Her hips began to pick up speed now, with Elsa feeling the intensity of the pleasurable lightning cascading through her body with increasing strength and frequency. Jack matched her rhythm perfectly, and occasionally elicited a shout when he would thrust up, going deeper inside her than she ever thought he could. She occasionally circled her hips around him, eager to feel more of him inside her, aching to feel him touch places that hands could not satisfy.

He grew tired of being on his back, so with a surge forward – and a squeal from Elsa – he lifted them both upright and wrapped his arms around her chest, holding her tightly against him, not wanting to _ever_ let go. She responded by smashing her soft, full lips to his shoulders, and running her hands from his neck down to his spine, kissing, nibbling and sometimes even biting to cope with the rising heat inside her. Feeling her rhythm start to approach the crescendo, and knowing he wasn’t far off himself, he pressed his own lips to her neck once more, paying special attention to the sweet-spots on her neck with his tongue and his teeth.

“Fuck, Jack…whatever you’re doing, don’t you dare stop…” she tried to whisper, louder and more emphatic moans providing the punctuation. She was partly amazed she could get the words out; such was the buzzing in her mind. Jack merely chuckled into her skin, not breaking the momentum.

“Seriously…it’s so good…if you stop, I will kill you. Slowly.” she reiterated, digging her nails into his back as the pleasure became uncontrollable. She hoped she wasn’t hurting him, but if Jack would ever be asked, he kinda _liked_ the painful sensation.

And then, inexorably, the point was near. Feeling her hips now move independent of thought, she started to feel the second build-up in her core, the seeds that would explode. Their movements became faster and more frenzied, their moans becoming louder and stronger as he also began to feel himself reach the edge.

“Elsa, I’m-”

“Not yet. Stay with me. Together.” she ordered, and Jack tried desperately to summon the entire _Disney Infinity_ manual into his mind to keep him from losing the battle. He didn’t need to for long.

“Oh, shi-”

“Oh….fuck!”

“Shiiiiiiitt, Jack, I’m coming! Now!” she screamed, holding him tightly against her, clamping her legs around his back so he could not move, feeling her body begin to rapidly convulse with the explosion of orgasmic pleasure resonating through her entire body, sending her mind somewhere into the stratosphere. The hot, acute sensation was heightened when Jack finally let go, releasing a loud moan as he let himself loose inside her, his hips involuntarily bucking up with the jerking.

Wrapped in each other’s arms and legs, foreheads pressed against each other, they let the sensations of overwhelming pleasure fill their beings from core to tip, enduring the occasional convulsion and resultant gasp as their bodies went through the motions. Wave upon wave of warm lightning coursing through their bodies, gradually lessening in intensity as their minds began to reactivate once more. Jack collapsed backwards onto the bed, Elsa falling on top of him, feeling her hot breath against his face and her hands stroke his cheeks and warm lips press against his mouth.

“That...was worth waiting for…worth taking those contrawhatsit pills for…” she gasped into his mouth, sometimes sucking in a breath when the aftershocks shot through her body with a deep intensity. Feeling just how weak her legs were, she flopped to the side, yelping a little with the sudden removal of his length from inside her. A light layer of sweat adorned their bodies as they lay there, fighting for every breath as they stared into each other’s eyes, Elsa occasionally hitching a breath when another aftershock shot through her body.

“Yeah…that was…wow…” Jack tried to speak, but gave up the impossible endeavour.

“I think…I’m gonna need to walk it off…” she murmured, wondering if her mind was ever going to come back down from space, “would you…like a coffee?”

“Please. I’m gonna…stay here for a while…if that’s okay…” he replied, knowing that if he tried to walk he’d probably fall over and not get back up. Elsa giggled, pride joining the emotions coursing through her heart knowing that she just blew Jack’s mind. She leaned over, placed a hand on his jaw and gently turned his still-stunned face towards her, and gently pressed her lips to his with a soft ‘mmm’. Jack watched her break the embrace, slide from the bed and attempt to stand straight with a murmured _‘woah’_ as her legs wobbled, and with an expression of pure wonder he watched her ethereal, naked form stagger slightly towards the white dressing gown that was hanging on the back of her door, and turning back with a coy smile and a knowing wink, she left the room.

* * *

 

Elsa’s head was still swimming a little, so the presence of the walls nearby and the stools by the breakfast bar proved to be quite adept at helping her walk. Making her way to the coffee cupboard, she picked out a pod for Mocha and one for Americano, smiling to herself as she placed the pod in the dispenser and a mug under the nozzle.

She finally had Jack all to herself. No messages, no calls, nothing to interrupt them. And it felt amazing.

She turned to assess the carnage, a line of clothes extending from the front door all the way to the bedroom. She blushed shyly, recalling what came over her as soon as she saw that smirk, that smile that lit up his face and made her fall for him all the more.

But then something caught her eye, a rectangular envelope that had fallen out of Jack’s military jacket when she tore it from him. Curious, she stepped over and picked up the envelope, noticing that the name on the front was hers.

Should she open it? Should she leave it? It was for her after all. Maybe a quick peek. Sliding her finger under the envelope’s seal, she quietly pulled it apart and slipped out the letter that was inside, and _that_ bore her name too.

_Dear Elsa,_

_I pretty much had three choices in doing this. One, I could tell you face to face, but let’s face it: my track record with that is pretty crap. Another was to use email like I said outside the hospital, but that seemed so…impersonal. So that left writing this letter._

_I think you deserve to know why I am the way I am, and I really, really hope that it doesn’t change things between us._

_So, here it is. Everything You Wanted To Know About Jack, But Were Afraid To Ask. See what I did there? Woody Allen…never mind. Bad joke._

_I had a mother called Sarah, and a sister called Sophie. She was my world, my absolute world. I loved her more than anything, and she loved me. She wasn’t even supposed to be here, the docs once told my mom that after me, she wouldn’t be able to have any more children. My mom was stubborn, though, she kept trying. And when I was ten, she basically gave the docs the best middle finger she could, by getting pregnant with Sophie. She was our miracle child, the girl that wasn’t to be._

_I called her my snowflake, and she called me her Jack Frost. Probably because of my hair!  Anyway, like I said, I loved her. I pretty much became her dad and her bro, because our father spent more time as CEO than he did with us. Everything I know I taught to myself, and everything Sophie knew, I taught her. Except, you know, girl stuff. Mom did that._

_Sophie absolutely loved Christmas, and she loved the snow. I can’t tell you how many snowball fights I lost to her. You get her going, she’s damn near vicious. We’d have fights over who gets our dessert, and she would ALWAYS win._

_Anyway, I say ‘had’, because on the night of the eighth of December, I lost them both. They were crossing the road; Sophie wanted to show me something that they had bought for Christmas. Three seconds later, they were hit by a car. Mom went under the wheels and died instantly, but Sophie…she held on._

_I don’t really remember much from that day. I vaguely remember calling 911 while I was holding Sophie to my chest. I remember feeling that if I just cuddled her, that if I just kept her warm that she would be fine. That the impact hadn’t shattered nearly every bone in her little body._

_Next thing I knew, we were in the ambulance on the way to Burgess Hospital. I was holding her hand, and she was trying to keep her eyes open to look at me. She was trying to say something, so I pulled away the oxygen mask so I could make out what she was saying._

_“I’m scared.”_

_That was the last thing she said, because a few seconds later I felt her little hand go limp as she flat-lined. I went numb. I couldn’t believe it. In one night, the only two people I ever loved had been killed by some hit-and-run asshole. My therapist told me it was some sort of defence mechanism, that my body and mind wasn’t able to cope with the grief so I kind of shut down._

_So, for three years, I kept everyone away from me. I was terrified that if I let someone in, if I allowed myself to connect with someone, that they would be ripped away from me just like my family was. I didn’t want to go through that again. Hell, it was kind of a routine. 364 days of the year, I’d be alone. Every 8 th of December, I’d make a pilgrimage to Burgess, go see their graves, get a new pair of snowflakes on my neck, and try to kill myself._

_Yep. I said that. First anniversary, I drank enough whisky to put DunBroch out of business, and ended up spending a long time in hospital recovering from alcohol poisoning. Second anniversary, I tried to crash my car into some semi truck, but for some reason I turned my wheel at the last second. Ended up hitting this massive tree stump instead, and I went flying through the windshield. That’s what those scars are from._

_This year, I nearly drove off the edge of a disused quarry outside Burgess. I didn’t really remember much, all knew was I somehow found myself on the street where they died, and the next thing I knew, I was near the edge of the quarry, about to hit the gas when I got your text message. Just asking how I was._

_You pretty much saved my life._

_That brings me to the last part of this letter. I was content to just be isolated, you know, be on my own until the day I die…but then I met you. I don’t know what it is about you, but ever since we met I found it harder and harder (giggity) to keep you away. I just didn’t want to be the cold, aloof guy anymore. I didn’t want to hide anything, and that’s pretty much down to you. Hell, you saw my at my worst on Saturday night, but you stayed with me._

_You brought me out of my shell, and helped me to start to grieve. For that, I’ll be eternally grateful._

_You’re also the only one I have ever told about my family. Ever. No-one else knows, apart from Nick and Thiana obviously, but they don’t know everything. Pretty sure Anna will want to know. I mean, she’s like the eighteen year old version of Sophie, so if she asks, you can tell her._

_So this is me laying my cards on the table. Letting you in, I guess. Even if you don’t want to be with me anymore after this letter, you have my thanks. For helping me to be me again._

Elsa re-read the letter a few more times, letting the words sink in. She knew there was a story behind Jackson Overland, but she didn’t know what it was. She wasn’t sure when, or even _if_ he would tell her, but now he did.

He had bared his soul to her in this letter, and it was a tortured one. But it was healing. Raising a finger to wipe a tear that had snuck out at around about the second reading of the last paragraph, she realised just how much she meant to him. This was beyond stolen glances, beyond dates and sex, this was a connection. The invisible force between two people that fate decided should be together.

She ached inside for him, acutely knowing the same pain that sat in his heart for three years until he met her, the isolating loneliness of keeping people away. Now knowing exactly _why_ he was the way he was, and that _she_ was the only person he opened up to. Not Anna, not his godparents, but _her_.

Along with the heartache that came at the knowledge of his loss, a warm explosion radiated from her heart.

Clutching the letter, she strode purposefully back to the bedroom, practically pushing the door off its hinges. Jack had just managed to pull himself out of bed and started to make his way to his trousers when she burst through the door, and he regarded her with a puzzled expression…which shifted to dread when he saw what was in her hand.

“Elsa, I-”

There were no words. Elsa dropped the letter, reached Jack in three steps and pulled his face to hers, pressing her lips against his in a bruising, needing kiss. Jack didn’t know what to do with his hands, so he just left them at his sides…but he could swear he felt the lightest convulsions of a sob in her mouth. Finally pulling away, she stared at him with an undefinable look in her eyes, trying to chase away the worry in his.

“Jack, I am so, so sorry for your loss. I know what it’s like to lose family.” she whispered, every single word reinforced with comfort and understanding. Jack looked away, feeling his eyes begin to heat up as the onset of tears made their way there. Elsa delicately placed a hand under his chin and guided his eyes back to her.

“But you’re an idiot if you think that ends things between us.” she smiled warmly, her words reinforced with the strongest conviction as a solitary tear dripped down from an eye. Relief washed over Jack’s entire being, chasing away the fear and worry, the resignation and the sadness. His arms darted up and wrapped themselves around her, with Elsa’s arms responding in kind as they buried themselves in each other.

Standing in Elsa’s bedroom, fresh from closing the physical distance and opening the soul, they shared one of the tightest, closest, most powerful embraces possible.

After two weeks of testing the waters, of weathering storms, and six days of being apart, finally they were together. 

And about time, too.


	22. Words Unspoken

Jack checked his phone once more, as he had been doing irregularly for the past two hours. Four thirty.

After coming clean to Elsa about his past, airing every little detail that had weighed him down for the past three years, he felt as light as a feather. He felt like he had been dragging heavy baggage on a long journey, until someone had stopped him, placed a hand on his shoulder and said  _'That's enough. You are where you're supposed to be.'_

The other effect of freeing himself from his burden was that his mind was no longer focused on watching every single word that left his mouth, censoring things like an overzealous television producer. He could now think freely of other things, devote his mind to other pursuits.

Pursuits, like working out how to stop Elsa from kicking his Thor avatar off the edge of the world in  _Disney Infinity._ Again.

"You know, for someone that only started playing this a week or two ago, you're pretty good." he muttered, wincing as Iron Man punted Thor into oblivion for the sixth time. It seemed to be Elsa's favourite pastime. He would groan whenever she would bodily pick up his character, and fix her with a half-amused, half-annoyed glare. Elsa would just cackle and stick her tongue out.

"What's the matter, don't like losing?" she teased, nudging him in the ribs.

"Hey, I don't mind losing! Lost the blueberry battle in my apartment, and I think I came out on top!" he retorted, winking coyly. Elsa flushed a deep crimson and raised an eyebrow at him, giving him a smirk to rival his own. She tossed the controller onto the coffee table, raised her legs onto the sofa and leaned her back onto his chest. Jack quickly understood, sliding his legs either side of hers and wrapping his arms around her stomach in a warm embrace.

This was what it was all about, in his mind. Cuddling his girlfriend on the sofa, enjoying each other's company and playing  _Infinity._

"Technically," she murmured, tracing circles on the back of his right hand, "I think I did."

"Oh, I see what you did there. Ten points for Gryffindor." he chuckled. Elsa knew her innuendo it seemed, especially when she sniggered along with him. She twisted her head and traced her eyes up to his neck, taking in the pair of snowflakes that poked out of the collar of his shirt.

"What made you choose that particular snowflake design?" she asked earnestly, eliciting a shiver as she delicately traced a line with her finger across the two tattoos.

"Huh? Oh. I used to draw snowflakes a lot, and Sophie came into my room one day and saw one that I just finished drawing. I don't know what it was about it, but she fell in love with it and asked if she could keep the picture. I guess it just keeps them close to me, you know?"

Elsa smiled, and placed a soft kiss on the side of his mouth, igniting fierce tingles from the point of contact.

"I understand perfectly, Jack." she whispered. Jack gave her a warm half-smile and leaned his head down, softly meeting his lips to hers for a brief second.

"Ready to go again?" she murmured against his lips. Jack raised an eyebrow and gave her mild incredulity.

"Seriously? I'm still recovering from being your victory spoils…" he half-groaned.

"I meant  _Infinity_ , you dirty boy." she playfully rapped his right leg.

"Oh…you mean get my ass kicked even more? Why not. Bring it on." he smirked, and Elsa was about to reach for her controller when her phone vibrated on the table, a message notification brightening the screen. She picked up the shaking device and perused the message.

"It's Anna. She's asking if I want to meet her and Kristoff for a coffee and a cake." Elsa read aloud. Jack snuck another glance at the time on his phone.

"Want to come? It'll probably be Starbucks." she asked, thumbs waiting to type a reply. Jack screwed up his nose with an _'ew'_  expression.

"Oh come on, it's not that bad." she teased, nudging him once more. Jack gave her sullen, pretending to be a sulky child.

"You'll have me there with you…" Elsa played her trump card with a sing song voice. Jack studied her for a moment, trying to not give her the satisfaction of yet another victory by suppressing the grin itching to appear.

"Fine," he gave in, rolling his eyes, "but only for you. I hate Starsucks. Speaking of sucks, tell Anna her tree sucks."

Elsa laughed, and typed in the reply.

_"We're in. Jack says your tree sucks. See you in twenty. – Elsa"_

_"IT DOES NOT! Wait…'we'? OH MY GOD! YAY! Asses over here pronto, I want details. – Anna xox_

"Oh no. What have we unleashed…" Elsa groaned, flopping back onto Jack's chest, causing him to go  _'oof'_ as he checked the time on his phone once more. Noticing it just like she noticed all the other times he tried to be sneaky, she turned over and rested her chest against his, feeling their pelvises slot perfectly together.

"If I didn't know better," she murmured, tracing a line across his upper lip, "I'd say you had to be somewhere, what with checking your phone every five seconds."

"Well, we kinda do…" he replied, trying to evade the pointedness of the comment.

"You  _know_  what I mean. What's wrong, Jack?" she said in a quietly reprimanding tone, tugging his nose to reinforce her point. Jack sighed, at a loss as to how he was going to explain to  _her_  what he told Kai. It's one thing to tell a business associate, it's another to tell the woman whose mere touch sends your mind aflutter.

"I'm expecting a call from your uncle or Nick because, before I came here, I went to see Kai. I had an idea I wanted to run by you two, about how we might be able to get Black out of the picture" he explained, keeping his eyes a few centimetres above the bangs on Elsa's forehead. She pulled herself off and sat cross legged on the sofa, elbows on her knees and fingers laced together, staring at Jack intently with an expression of deep interest.

"Tell me." she said, with the weight of a command. Businesswoman Elsa.

"Black wants to hit the magic seventy-five percent mark so he can ratify a takeover of Fractal Fashion, right? Only, Kai is standing in his way. Specifically, Kai's stock. Twenty-six percent."

"Right. Even if Black acquires most of the stock, he still needs Kai's shares to ratify a takeover." Elsa nodded, on Jack's wavelength.

"Exactly. No twenty-six percent, no takeover."

"That's a good thing. Kai would never sell his stock to Black and neither would I…but you still look worried. Why?"

"That's the problem. In situations like yours, Black sic's his Southernisle dogs on the shareholders. They either dredge up skeletons they can use against you…or they make their own. As the majority holder, he's a target. And if something happens to him, then  _you_  become the next in Black's crosshairs."

Elsa felt fear creep into her chest as she looked away, prompting Jack to reach over and lace his fingers with hers. This was the moment that he could make everything right.

"What I want to do is use a shell company to buy his stake. After a week or so, use another one to buy it, then another and another, which would mean-"

Elsa's eyes brightened as her eyes snapped back to his, hope igniting once more.

"-Black would be too busy chasing shares to take over my company!" she whispered excitedly, following Jack's train of thought.

"Bingo. No offence to Kai, but you're way quicker than he is." Jack smiled, admiring Elsa's intelligence…which only intensified his attraction to her. Elsa blushed as she smiled.

"You  _still_  look worried, Jack. Did something happen?"

"No…Kai was resistant. He said that the stock wasn't his, but  _yours_. I told him that I wasn't going to keep the shares, but sell them back at the price I bought them for even if they're worth more. Less, if they're worth less…but then he said that the stock wasn't  _his_  to sell. That it was yours, your father's legacy to you. I'm not comfortable with taking something that belongs to you."

Elsa lifted his hand up with her fingers and kissed his palm, closing her eyes as she did so. When she reopened them, she had a faraway look on her face as she stared at a specific invisible point on the sofa.

"I'm okay with it." she said, quietly but decisively.

"You are?"

"Look, it seems I have two options. Either let Black take the stock, or let you buy it. In my mind, there's no-one I'd rather own my stock than you."

"Romantic." Jack dryly teased. Elsa gave him a look.

"Shut up and kiss me, smartass." she ordered, and Jack was only too happy to comply. Leaning forward, he gently met his lips with hers, a delicate, soft touch. It wasn't enough for Elsa, who wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him backwards with her, so he was laid on top, their pelvises pressing together once more.

"You'd do this for me? Why?" she asked, slightly puzzled. She wasn't used to people caring about her this much.

"Because I…"

_Because I love you._

"Because I care about you too much to see you become a target. That's all it's ever been about, Elsa. You."

A surge of love and warmth rushed through her in a tidal wave, but it was tinged with disappointment. A part of her wished he had spoken a different word. Pulling his lips to hers once again, the meeting became more passionate and needing, their mouths becoming more and more numb. She slipped her hands down his shirt and under the lower hem, causing a hitching of his breath as her ice-cold fingertips sent a shiver through his spine.

He released her lips, only to trace a line of kisses from the left edge of her mouth down to her jaw, and finally across her neck, eliciting a breathless moan as she closed her eyes, riding the sensation. She moved her hands slowly down to the button of his trousers, feeling their hips start to involuntarily grind against each other once more.

Lost in the heat, neither of them remembered that they had somewhere to be…until the sound of plastic vibrating on wood jerked them out of their passion. Elsa's eyes went wide with the realisation crashing down.

"Jack, what time is it?!" she gasped.

"After five…" he answered, checking his phone.

"Anna's going to kill us!" she hissed, lurching up and nearly knocking into Jack's nose to reach for her phone. Hitting the  _Open Message_  icon, her thumbs quickly went to type an apologetic reply before she actually read it.

_"Actually, can I come home instead? Anna xox"_

Elsa frowned, not because Anna was going to scupper, in her mind, the ideal night of a meal with Jack and whatever would happen with the house to themselves, but the fact that Anna was originally going to stay the night with Kristoff…and had changed her mind.

_"You sure? I thought you and Kristoff had plans tonight? – Elsa"_

_"Change of plans. Can I come home or not? – Anna"_

Elsa flinched at the terseness of the message. This was not like her.

_"You don't need to ask, Anna. I'll come and pick you up. – Elsa"_

"What's the matter?" Jack asked, noticing the concern on his girlfriend's brow as he stroked circles onto her back.

"Something's wrong with Anna. She was supposed to stay at Kristoff's tonight, but she wants to come home." Elsa quietly spoke as she flopped back onto the sofa. Jack opened his right arm and she instinctively snuggled into his neck, sighing as he kissed her hair in comfort.

"Okay. I'll make enough for four, then." Jack shrugged, like it was nothing.

"Actually, Jack…I think it'll just be three."

* * *

Kai stared into the half-empty glass of whisky calling his name.

Life was simpler on the other side of the bar. If you had the money, you order the drinks. If you have more money, you order more. A simple business transaction. If you wanted to forget the day, or the week, or even the year, you drink as much as you feel you need before the world starts to move independently of your body.

And if you need to forget a  _person_ , you don't stop until you're horizontal.

There were three people that Kai wanted to wipe from his memory with the amnesia-inducing amber liquid. The first was Jackson Overland, who had indirectly told him that his career as CEO of Fractal Fashion was over. Told him that the only way to save the company was to hand over his stock, and trust that things would not go wrong. It was one hell of a gamble, and as such Kai did not agree there and then.

But there was one thing that had stuck in his mind as he felt his vision becoming fuzzier – the guy was trying to protect his niece, and in doing so, would be potentially making a target of himself. There was business, and there was love. This was the latter.

It only made the regret of not agreeing to his proposal even stronger when the faces of two men swam into his mind, forcing him to down the rest of the glass in one and order two more.

One had a moustache the size of a yard brush, and the other had sideburns you could tie a swing to. Both of them had the same look, the expression when you're doing something either immoral or illegal and you  _actually enjoy it_. A couple of hours after Jack had left him in his pensive misery, they had arrived with a brown manila folder, tossing it onto his desk.

The message they gave him was clear.

_"In two days, on Monday the 24_ _th_ _of December, you are to place your shares on the stock market at six o'clock in the morning. Failure to comply will result in these photographs finding their way into the front page of the national newspapers."_

And to punctuate that, the first two sheets that Kai slid out of the manila folder were photographs, one taken of the woman from Wednesday night getting into his car, and the other was of the near-kiss outside the police station. Kai's stomach had churned like a cement mixer and the fear gripped his heart.

He did have an option, though. The way Jack had described it, corroborated by the evidence in his red folder indicated that even if Kai did as they asked, the photos would still be released. He was going to be raked over the coals by the press anyway, he might as well make it count by selling his shares to Jack. At least he could hold on to the thought that he was doing a good thing.

Except, the men seemed to have planned for that eventuality, as a further two photos were contained within that manila folder. Pulling them out, Kai felt his heart stop and the blood in his face drain away, never to be seen again.

It was those two photos that made him agree to their demands.

So, as he sat on the bar stool midway through the insurmountable task of trying to forget that horrible, horrible meeting, he wondered if there would be enough alcohol in the bar to kill the feeling that he had just signed Fractal Fashion's death sentence.

He wondered if there would be enough alcohol in the state to nullify the pain of feeling that, in his mind, he had failed his brother and more importantly, his niece.

* * *

When you're used to exuberant chatter, grandiose gestures and joyful squeals, silence is deafening.

The two sisters had spent the drive back to the Snowfield House in silence, not for lack of trying from Elsa. All she could put together was something had happened between her and Kristoff, judging by the fact that he was not in the car with them. That Jack was going to cook for three instead of four.

Upon entering the house, Anna took her shopping bags straight to her room, and hadn't left. Elsa stood vigilantly beside her door while Jack took himself to the other end of the house, thinking that the best person to help Anna was her own sister. He didn't want to pry.

Eventually, the need to know consumed Elsa and as she strode away from her sister's door, she picked up her phone from the breakfast bar, placed there when she tried to follow Anna into her room. Dialling Kristoff's number, she stepped outside of the house onto the veranda, and Jack watched her pace up and down as she waited for him to answer.

Sighing deeply, he picked himself up from the sofa and delved into one of the plastic bags, pulling out a bottle of whisky and, after several cupboard checks, retrieved three short glasses. Returning to the sofa, he poured himself half and slumped back, closed his eyes as he felt the cold glass through his trouser legs. Exhaling through his nose, he waited to see if the situation would resolve itself. He didn't feel it was his place to interfere.

"Can I have one of those?"

Jack slowly opened his eyes and looked to the left, head not leaving the back of the sofa. Anna stood a few feet away, her hands fidgeting with the sleeves of her bright Christmas jumper. She wasn't wearing her engagement ring. Sighing, he leaned forward and poured another half into the second glass, sliding it to the other end of the coffee table so Anna didn't have to physically take it from him. She carefully sat at the other end of the sofa, picking up her glass and stared intently into the floor. Jack returned to his original position, taking a sip of his own drink and gazed patiently at the inert television screen. Unlike Elsa, he was used to silence…and yet, he was the first one to break it.

"When I look at your sister, I don't just see the most beautiful woman that ever walked this earth. I see regret." he said, rotating the glass in his hand before he took another sip. Anna turned her head and frowned a little. She could look at him while Jack was looking away, and he knew it.

"I have scars, right here," he said, feathering his fingers from left to right across his chest, "and here." he finished, tapping his temple. Anna followed the gestures with her eyes, still keeping quiet.

"The thing is, you can cover up your physical scars with clothes, and your mental ones with a fake smile…but it's the eyes that give you away." he muttered, turning his head to look straight into Anna's eyes. She didn't turn away. Still didn't speak, though.

"I look at your eyes, and I see myself three years ago. When I said I see regret, it means that if I had Elsa back then as you have Kristoff now, I wouldn't have lost three years of my life to making sure that nobody could touch me, that nobody could know me. It's only since falling for your sister that I realised just how lonely that was. Now, all of that led me to this moment, with who I'm pretty sure is the girl of my dreams. So I've made peace with it."

Rising from the sofa, he drained the last of the whisky in his glass and tapped it twice with his finger, preparing his last few words.

"Kristoff is,  _right now_ , the man of your dreams. Don't let one night screw up your life. Don't be me." he finished sagely, placing the glass on the coffee table and retreating to Elsa's bedroom, leaving Anna to her thoughts.

She gazed down at the untouched glass of whisky in her hand, swilling the liquid around in a circle. She began to recall what had happened, not long after her message to Elsa asking about 'details'. Kristoff had gone to buy another couple of presents, so she was waiting outside Starbucks, reading some of the flyers that up-and-coming music groups had put up. Advertisements for the New Year celebrations in the Palace Square.

The next thing she remembered was a pair of hands wrapping themselves around her abdomen and a chin on her shoulder, and an explosion of terror in her chest. In one fluid movement, she had wriggled out of the embrace, slapped the person as hard as she could and finished it up with a heavy dose of pepper spray. Something that Rapunzel had given her before they left for Corona that Tuesday.

The man's anguished yells and cowering form pleased her, sated the part of her that still cried for vengeance because of that night.

"Yeah! How'd you like that? Nobody's gonna get a piece of me and get away with it!"

The anguished, hoarse reply had taken her off-guard, though.

"Why, Anna?"

It was then that she had realised, it was not a stranger, nor the man from that night trying to finish the job. The man cowering down, grunting in pain as he tried desperately to wipe the stinging liquid from his eyes was Kristoff. Guilt and panic fought each other for dominance in her heart, and with an  _'Oh my God, Kristoff, I am so sorry!'_  she had reached out, to place a hand on his shoulder.

Almost as soon as her fingers touched him, he had violently shaken them off, backing away two steps as he fixed her with crimson red eyes, full of hurt and shock. She was so overcome with guilt that she turned and fled. Feelings of worthlessness, uselessness and self-hate raged within her as she bolted far, far away from her fiancée. She had quietly pulled off her ring in Elsa's car, such was her self-reproach.

Maybe she was over-thinking it, but she couldn't escape the feeling that her engagement had just gone down the drain, swirling inexorably in a whirlpool just like the liquid in her glass.

She heard the front door click and looked to the left. She saw Elsa pause mid-step, staring at her with an expression not of anger, nor of hate, but of love. The love you feel when you watch someone close to you torture themselves in their minds, knowing you can't do anything but simply be there for them. As though possessed, Anna quickly placed the glass down on the table and  _ran_  into her elder sister's waiting arms.

"He hates me…" she sobbed, tears dripping down onto Elsa's sweater.

"No, he doesn't." Elsa murmured, her cheek pressed against Anna's.

"Yes he does! I freaked out and I hurt him and he hates me and the engagement's over!" she rambled, the words coming out in a sobbing mess.

"No, he doesn't hate you. He understands. Granted, it took him a while to calm down, but he understands. He loves you, Anna. More than life itself."

She felt Anna's reaction; a tighter squeeze around her chest and another loud sob.

"Is he on the phone? Can I talk to him?" she asked, her words muffled by Elsa's sweater.

"No, he isn't. He's on his way here. He just wants to see if you're okay."

True to Elsa's word, the sound of a motorbike engine cutting off and the knock on the door reached their ears not twenty minutes later. Elsa released her sister, unlocked the door and walked quietly to the hallway that held the bedrooms, and then leaned on the wall to watch how the scene would play out. The next minute would decide everything.

Anna and Kristoff stared at each other, sharing the same expression of  _'Oh God, I love you so much, I am so sorry I hurt you, will you forgive me?'_.

Of course they would.

Kristoff took two steps forward and Anna rushed the rest of the way, melting herself into his loving arms.

"I'm so sorry, Kristoff. I didn't mean-" she began, but Kristoff interrupted her.

"It's my fault. I should have thought. I didn't mean to scare you, and I'm sorry for that." he soothed, holding her close with one arm and stroking her hair gently with the other. Single tears slid from his eyes down onto her hair, and tears from hers dripped onto his leather jacket.

Elsa watched the scene unfold, her heart aching as she saw them cry, but knowing that it was all going to be alright. She smiled to herself as she exhaled through her nose, and she too retreated to her bedroom, leaving the two fiancées to be alone.

She had just stepped through the door when a pair of arms shot out, twisting her around and as she squealed in fright, dipped her to the floor. One hand on the nape of her neck, the other hand on the base of her spine. Her heartbeat resounding in her chest, she stared up into the twinkling eyes of Jack, who was regarding her with a slightly smug smirk.

"Jack, what are you-"

He silenced her with a smooth, passionate kiss, his lips slanted sideways as she melted into the embrace. Completely at his mercy – should he let go, gravity would ensue – she reached a hand behind his head to hold him there, closing her eyes to deepen the kiss. She moaned a soft 'mmm' into his mouth, and he pulled away about half an inch. Just close enough to brush against her soft, full lips, but far enough to be able to speak.

"I missed a chance in the nightclub, the last time I had you in this position. I'm not missing it again." he growled, a smouldering look in his eyes. Elsa felt her heart start to thunder as she smirked in return.

"My, Jack, you're like, a completely different person than when we met. Not that I'm complaining." she winked, igniting a fire in his face as she traced a finger down his jawline.

"Your fault. You should be ashamed." he teased, lifting her upright once more. For a second, Elsa wished that he didn't.

"Oh really? And what's my penance going to be? Thirty minutes on the naughty step?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Thirty minutes of  _something_." he winked, tracing his hands down her hips.

"Down, boy. Not while they're here." she snickered, rapping her hands lightly on his back. Jack inclined his head toward the door, an expression of mildly curious concern on his face.

"Are they gonna be okay?" he asked. Elsa paused for a moment as she listened for their voices, and then nodded slowly with a smile.

"I think so. There's no couple more made-for-each-other than those two."

"True, but I also disagree."

"Oh really, Mr Overland? Do elaborate." she teased, placing her hands on his chest while his rested on her waist. She could feel his heart banging against his ribcage, trying to break for freedom.

"Us." he smirked, planting another quick kiss on her smiling mouth and disappearing out of the room.

Elsa watched him go, and try as she might she couldn't wipe the grin off her face nor douse the intense burning in her chest.

* * *

"You're right…this actually does help." Anna spoke, surprised.

Onions freshly chopped, she slid them into the frying pan while Jack busied himself with slicing the garlic into itty bitty pieces, smiling inside when he noticed that the engagement ring was back on her finger.

"Told you." he said, tossing the garlic in as well.

Remembering that Elsa had a deep appreciation for Italian food, the shopping that was contained in the up-until-now-ignored bags was mostly ingredients for spaghetti Bolognese, and though he originally intended for Elsa to help him with the preparation, he reckoned Anna could use it more.

"How long have you been able to cook?" she asked, obeying Jack's gesture to swirl the frying onions around the pan as he sprinkled in a pinch of mixed herbs.

"Er…since I was fourteen, I think. Mom told me that if there was ever something on my mind, or if I was feeling low, to start cooking. I don't know why it helps, but it gives my mind something to focus on, and make something I can be proud of."

"What  _can_  you cook?" she asked curiously as she stabbed at the minced beef that Jack had lobbed in.

"Meh, I know enough to get by. I'm no Michelin-starred chef…though it's still weird to actually cook  _for_  people instead of freeze it. I think I've got enough frozen lasagne to survive the Zombie Apocalypse."

"It is weird. I mean, most people our age just buy ready meals or pancake mix or whatever." she shrugged, noticing Jack's look of mock-offense.

"Pfft," he waved dismissively, as he turned over the browned mince and let her stab it some more, "you don't get love in supermarket meals."

Anna gave him a look, and he blushed slightly.

"Mom used to give me a lot of advice when I was younger, and one thing that sticks in my mind is that with cooking, you get out of it what you put in. You don't get the satisfaction of thinking  _'I made that'_  when someone compliments the food. If you don't put love in with all of the other stuff, you don't get any out. Cheesy, I know."

"Yep, it is. Clichéd, too. Still true." Anna smirked, nudging him teasingly.

He passed her a bowl of chopped and peeled tomatoes, which she lobbed into the pan with gleeful abandon. The furious hissing of the mince and onions changed into a mild simmering, and Anna swirled the concoction around with the wooden spatula some more.

"Oh, that smells  _delicious_." came a voice from between them. Anna jumped out of her skin, and even Jack was startled. Elsa stared at the red and brown Bolognese simmering happily in the pan, a hungry look in her eyes to accompany the growling in her stomach.

"Hey hey hey! No kids in the kitchen when Mommy and Daddy are cooking!" Anna told her sister off, brandishing the spatula like a disciplinary stick. Jack snorted into laughter.

"But, but but…" Elsa whined, following the joke.

"No buts! Go and lay the table!" Anna finished, a hand on her hip as she waved the cooking implement with each word spoken.

"Aww, but Mooooom!" Elsa sniggered.

"Shoo! Or no dessert for you!" Anna couldn't help cracking a wide grin as Elsa burst into laughter.

"Good to have you back, 'sis." she smiled, wrapping her arms around her younger sister, before igniting a fire on Jack's cheek with a kiss as she left to do her 'mother's' bidding. Anna watched her closely to make sure she was out of earshot before she returned her attention to her co-cook, who was busy fighting the spaghetti sticks to keep them under the boiling water in a saucepan.

"So, you and my sister, huh?"

"Ayup."

"Did you…"

"Ayup."

"When?"

"Pretty much as soon as I walked…was  _pulled_  through the door."

Anna bounced on the balls of her feet with glee, Jack leaning to the right as he washed his hands to avoid the spatula which was currently wafting about, flicking tomato juice all over the cupboards.

"Eeeeeee! That's awesome. I so knew you two had the hots for each other. You're, like,  _made_  for each other. I'm gonna call your union…Jelsa!"

Jack covered his face with his palm, groaning at the nickname.

"If you say so… _Kristanna."_

If his intention was to annoy the gleeful strawberry blonde, it didn't work. Quite the contrary. Even Elsa looked up in curiosity at the high pitched 'eeeeeeee's' coming out of her younger sister's mouth.

* * *

The dinner having been long consumed, each couple had gone their separate ways. Anna and Kristoff had decided to cuddle up on the sofa to watch  _The Hobbit_  together, while Elsa and Jack appropriated his bottle of whisky and sat outside on the veranda, having stolen a few of the sofa's cushions so they could sit comfortably on the cold wood and watch the stars glimmer in the black curtain of the sky.

"I gave your letter to Anna." Elsa quietly spoke, her eyes fixed on the constellation of Orion. Jack shrugged, his eyes firmly on the Plough.

"That's cool. I don't mind her knowing." he said in an indifferent voice. Elsa turned and roved her eyes along his face, from the messy snow-white hair down to his jaw.

"Can I ask a question, Jack?"

"No, I don't use hair dye. I'm all natural, baby." he smirked, Elsa pushing him over with her arm in response. He chuckled as he righted himself.

"Fire away."

"What happened to your dad? You barely mentioned him in your letter."

Jack exhaled loudly through his nose at the question, his expression darkening and his jaw tensing. He leaned back with his hands on the wooden floor to support his weight, and the faintest traces of a growl escaped his throat.

"He's dead, too." was his curt answer. Elsa looked away, wondering if she should have asked in the first place.

"I'm sorry." she murmured. Jack's eyes went to his right, and his expression softened. Shuffling closer, he held his arm across her back and rested a hand on her right hip.

"Don't be." he half-smiled, then looked down at the snowy driveway, Kristoff's motorcycle tracks having been completely covered by the few hours of light snowfall.

"My dad was CEO of a winter sports company. Biggest one in the US. You name it, they made it. Sponsored an Olympic team too, I think. I'm not sure though, Dad was pretty good at talking bullshit. He even managed to talk Mom into owning a few shares, though she stipulated that her stock went to me if anything happened to them."

"Anyway, he spent more time at work than he did at home, even before Sophie was born. I shouldn't've been surprised when he wasn't there for the birth. I mean, a baby comes along that wasn't supposed to be born; you'd think you'd make the effort? But no, his work was more important. Seriously, the arguments that Mom and Dad had would make you wonder why they even got married in the first place."

Jack took half a swig of whisky before continuing, revolving the glass in his hand. Elsa watched his face intently, expressions of loss and anger alternating every so often.

"Anyway, about a month before Mom and Sophie died, Dad had a meeting with a certain Richard Black. You can probably guess what that meant."

"Your father's company was being bought…" Elsa whispered, understanding it all. She hadn't actually gotten around to reading the emails that Kai had sent over, but it all made sense. The red folder. His plans. The hate toward the Black Advertising name.

"Yeah, but if he could possibly make the situation  _worse_ , he did. Mom came back in tears when she had gone to the office, to find out why he didn't come home for dinner one night, so I asked her what happened. Turns out that after Black announced his plan, Dad went straight for the whisky in his drawer, got drunk off his face and fucked his secretary on his desk. Mom had just walked into the office, and saw them do it. Threw separation papers in his face the next day."

"Smooth." Elsa said sarcastically, prompting a chuckle from Jack, who also squeezed her hip in response.

"I know, right? He never even came to the hospital after they died, but Nick and Thiana did. He didn't come to the funeral either, but I guess he had a good reason – I found out in the paper that his car had gone off a bridge a few days before. Maybe he was consumed with guilt after he lost everything, the company, Mom, Sophie, I don't know. I don't really  _want_  to know."

"What happened after that?"

"Well, because I was legally too young, Nick was in control of my shares. He saw the writing on the wall with the company, so he asked me if I wanted him to cash in the shares, and put the money into my inheritance fund. I told him to go ahead, and while he was at it, sell the estate, too. I just wanted to forget him, forget everything to do with the company. Far as I'm concerned, I don't mourn him."

Jack placed the glass down on the veranda, and reached over for Elsa's left hand. He picked it up and kissed her palm, a lingering, gentle kiss that sent shivers across her arm.

"Anyway, that's enough of that," he smiled, releasing a hand to slide a few stray bangs from Elsa's forehead with a delicate touch. She took that hand and nuzzled her right cheek into it, closing her eyes as her skin tingled, the warmth of the touch contrasting with the icy cold of his skin.

"My father was the same." she murmured.

"You don't have to talk about it, Elsa."

"I want to. I've not really told anyone about this, and some things even Anna doesn't know. Besides, you basically let me in and took a risk with me; it's only fair that I do the same. I mean, it took a while for me to open up to Anna. I was just like you were in the coffee shop."

She released his hand and turned to the right, shuffled a little away from him and then laid back with her head on his lap, the cushions providing comfort and support to her spine. Jack moved his left hand and lovingly stroked her hair, while a faraway look sat upon her delicately sculpted features.

"My father was distant as well. For as long as I can remember, we could always find him in two places; at work, or in his study. He didn't really care much for anything that wasn't to do with the company, which as you can imagine doesn't do well for two growing girls. I remember showing him my report cards, my science projects, even Valentine's Day cards from high school. He'd just say  _'That's nice, Elsa, but Daddy has a lot of work to do'"_

"Eventually, Anna gave up trying to get his attention, but I didn't. I wanted to believe that somewhere, deep inside him was the father he was supposed to be. I wanted just for once to get some real praise, for him to acknowledge when I did something good. My mother would always argue with him about it, and he couldn't understand what he was doing wrong. I just wanted him to love  _me_  like he loved his company. So one day, I went into his study and told him I wanted to be CEO when it was time for him to stand aside. You should have seen his face; it was like Christmas had come early."

"After that, he started to pay more attention. He took me around the company building when I was ten, and started to teach me basic business skills. As I got older, it was more complex stuff. In fact, most of the lectures we're studying at college right now, I already know, thanks to my father. He even set up the paperwork that will enable me to take over this time next year."

"I remember thinking that it was the right thing to do, deciding to become CEO one day. I mean, it finally got my father's approval and attention, so it  _had_  to be. But then, three and a half months before they died, my mother had enough. She took me and Anna to stay with Kai, and told my father in no uncertain terms that he needed to look long and hard at his life, what he was doing to his daughters and reassess what was truly important to him."

She shuffled her head slightly, Jack continuing to stroke her hair.

"First few days, he didn't call. He didn't understand what was wrong, but something must have made him realise, though. He kept calling my mother after that, asking for her to take him back. She did eventually, but she made him sweat for two weeks. She needed to know that he wasn't lying, that he really was prepared to change. And he did."

"We started to see a lot more of him around the house. He learned to delegate his work and not do all of it himself. He was over the moon when I told him I won a singing competition at high school. He even bought the Cadillac for when I could legally drive, when I came home with my tenth grade finals results. It was amazing. I had a proper father for three months."

Elsa's eyes became wet and a tear slid out of her right eye, Jack quickly intercepted it before it could fall into her ear.

"And then, on their wedding anniversary, he took my mother out on his sailboat to celebrate. I had a really bad feeling about it, but they went anyway…and never came back. We didn't even have their bodies to bury. I couldn't believe it. For three months Anna and I had a proper father, someone who loved us as much as we loved him, and then he was gone. It tore me up inside. It was like being invisible for hundreds of years, until somebody finally sees you…but then they disappear as well."

Jack moved his hand to her left cheek now, listening intently as he caressed her skin, absorbing the outpouring of her heart.

"It fucked me up. In the months that followed, I locked myself in my room during the day, burying myself in schoolwork or learning about the company, and ignoring my sister whenever she would knock at my door. I isolated myself from everyone, believing I was the only one who felt the pain of being so close to a real family, and having it ripped away before my eyes. So I tried to dull the pain with work, and then when night came, something changed in me."

She reached up for Jack's hand with her left, entwining her fingers with his.

"I acted out. I rebelled. I'd sneak into bars, smoke weed, start fights. I'd go to house parties, flirt with guys, and basically just try to be as far from myself as I could. I even lost my virginity to someone I barely met that night…which I kind of regret as I wished it could have been to you."

"Doesn't matter. You're still perfect to me either way." he smiled, and Elsa gave him a look that danced between  _'that's so sweet'_ and  _'that's so cheesy'_.

"Anyway, I got completely wasted and high one night and was dropped off at home by three random guys, and as I nearly fell through the door I saw Anna waiting on the sofa. It was something like two in the morning, and she had waited up for me…but the look on her face broke my heart. She whispered something to me which pretty much sobered me there and then:  _'I'm scared, Elsa. I love you, I don't want to lose you as well'."_

"So, I bucked up my act, kicked myself up the ass and sorted myself out. I knew that with my mother and father gone, I was the role model for Anna, and I wasn't exactly doing  _that_  very well before. Devoted my future to taking over, because in my heart, I felt it was the right thing to do. Honouring his memory and being the daughter he always wanted. Be the good girl I always had to be." she finished, the last part coming out slightly bitterly.

"You sound unsure." Jack said, noticing the wavering tone and the look in her eyes. She sighed, squeezing his fingers as she tried to hold back the guilt in her throat.

"Honestly, Jack? I am. Anna and Kai have both told me that they  _'don't want me to throw my life away'_ , that they're worried I'll turn out just like him. With everything that's happened over the past few weeks, meeting you, Anna's attack, Black's move, I'm not sure I want to do it anymore. I don't want to be like him, but at the same time I don't want to feel like I've failed him."

Jack said nothing, but bent down as far as he could to kiss her forehead in support. She closed her eyes and made an 'mmm' sound, smiling at the contact.

"Thank you, for letting me do this. I actually feel a lot better now I've told you." she murmured appreciatively.

"No biggie. Thanks for trusting me with your life story. I promise I won't go to the papers." he smirked, prompting Elsa to reach up and jab his chest with her finger…which then went to cover her mouth as she uttered a huge yawn.

"I'm going to bed, it's been a big day." she muttered, lifting herself up with great effort from the extremely comfortable position and rising to her feet, with Jack standing as well.

"Yeah, I should probably get back home. My pet rock needs feeding." he agreed, running a hand through his hair and down his face in an effort to wake up a little. Moving toward the house with the intention of putting on his jacket, he was stopped by a hand grasping his own. He turned, and found himself imprisoned by those cerulean eyes once more.

"Why don't you stay here with me?" Elsa asked, biting her lip in anticipation, and Jack felt himself begin to burn up on the inside. Secretly, he had been hoping she would ask that question since before night had fallen.

"I'd love to." he smiled back, moving forward to meet her lips with his own in a gentle, delicate kiss.

Not fifteen minutes later, Jack was laid on his back in her bed, with Elsa resting her head on his chest, basking in the comforting feeling of safety that came with being wrapped in his arms, the warmth that came with being entwined with the man who felt as deeply for her as she did for him.

"Oh, I forgot to tell you, your godmother invited me, Anna and Kristoff to their house for Christmas Day. I said we'd love to." she murmured sleepily, tracing slow lines across the scars on his chest. Jack felt his heart thunder and leap for joy, but had to settle for a kiss on her forehead and a gentle squeeze of her chest as opposed to punching the air and making her jump out of her skin.

"I think you just made my Christmas." he grinned into her hair, and Elsa made an appreciative sound as she tightened her embrace of his chest.

"Goodnight, Jack. Sleep well." she murmured, feeling the warm, soft blanket of sleep drift over her.

"Goodnight, Elsa. Sweet dreams." he echoed, smiling to himself.

He waited until he heard her breathing become slow and measured and felt her body relax, and his eyes roved around her room. The moonlight streaming in through the window cast everything in an ethereal glow, from the dressing gown on her door to the snowflake design he gave her, currently pinned to the frame of her dressing-table mirror. He followed the light on the floor as it traced its way to the bed, and took in the sight of the sleeping Elsa, her platinum blonde hair shimmering in the supernatural moonlight, and her skin almost glowing.

To him, she never looked more stunning, and it took his breath away.

Feeling his eyelids begin to inexorably fall, he rested his cheek against her head, and before the fluffy embrace of sleep claimed him, softly murmured four words into her hair.

"I love you, Elsa."


	23. Satisfaction

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope everyone had a great Christmas!

Jack and Elsa had been awake since seven that Saturday morning, enjoying a wake-up coffee and talking about his plans. They had been discussing the humorous names for the fake corporations, each designed to poke fun at Black when he would eventually catch up to the company responsible for buying the stock, only for it to disappear.

Jack had already thought up two, and Elsa supplied the other four. ' _Need A Stiff Drink? Distillery'_ was one, and ' _Sucks to Be You Drinking Straws' was_  another. Jack couldn't write them down for laughing.

He had done pancakes again that morning, going through a ridiculous amount of milk, sugar and flour to supply all four mouths. Naturally, the two heirs had seized the opportunity to eat in peace before waking Anna, but when the younger sister finally came for her breakfast at about ten o'clock, it was not what Elsa or Jack expected.

Jack had been regaling Elsa with a tales of his little sister's antics when he suddenly froze mid-sentence, an amused smirk on his face. Elsa frowned at the loss of speaking momentum, so Jack nodded his head to the source.

Anna had just rounded the breakfast bar, her hair was a wavy, bedraggled mess and she was wearing her fluffy pink dressing gown. What surprised the two was that even though she looked like she hadn't slept, she was wearing the biggest, wildest grin on her buoyant features as she appropriated her plate of pancakes. She hadn't even noticed the presence of Jack and Elsa as she wordlessly returned to her room.

Elsa turned her face to Jack with partly narrowed eyes and a furrowed brow, and Jack merely shrugged as he sipped his coffee, before nearly spitting it out in wide-eyed shock and quickly darting his hand to cover Elsa's eyes. She weaved her head out of the way with an annoyed expression, then as she followed Jack's horrified stare she instantly wished she let his hands remain where they were.

Kristoff had rounded the corner and strode to the breakfast bar, an annoyed expression on his face as he grumbled something about Anna forgetting his plate.

He also happened to be completely naked. And they saw  _everything_.

Like his fiancée, he didn't even notice Jack and Elsa's presence at the bar, nor their expressions of blushing, jaw-dropped horror, and as he turned around and returned to the bedroom, he once again treated them to another example of his nakedness.

Jack and Elsa stared at the space before the corridor that he had just disappeared through, and it took at least a minute before their brains re-engaged and Elsa was able to speak.

"Was he-"

"…yeah." Jack could only manage.

"Did they-"

"…yeah."

"There are memories that stay with you forever…" Elsa started, but Jack finished.

"And then there's  _that_."

"Oh God, my eyes. I did  _not_  need to see that." she groaned, covering her face in her hands and trying to mentally wipe the image away.

_Naked Jack. Think of Naked Jack. NO! Not his head with Kristoff's body! Bad brain! Naked…oh that's better._

"When they get married, whoever is gonna be best man, I'm gonna make sure they mention  _that_  in the speech." Jack muttered, half a threat in there.

He then practically fell off the stool; such was the disturbance of his horrified trance when his phone vibrated in his trouser leg, and fishing it out he saw that he was being called by his godfather. Elsa watched him walk to the other end of the room toward the sofa, but couldn't help herself from eavesdropping.

"Hey Nick…why, what's going on? Okay, why do you need me, isn't this kind of your thing? Well, what about Phil, I…yeah okay, I'll be there soon. Bye." he ended the call, muttering to himself with an extraordinary impression of Muttley.

"Everything okay?" Elsa asked, leaning to the side over the bar to get a better look, her braid dangling along the smooth marble surface.

"Apparently there's an issue at the main building. Apparently, neither Phil nor Nick can see to it.  _Apparently,_  I have to help him sort it out." he grumbled, returning to the breakfast bar to down his coffee. Elsa followed suit, rising from her stool and finishing off her own mug. Jack gave her confused.

"I'm coming with you." she announced.

"You sure? I mean, it's at least an hour's drive, and it's gonna be  _boring_." he said.

"Meh, I've got nothing to do today, and I always wanted to see what the North Pole offices look like." she shrugged. Jack grinned, and gestured  _'Your call'._

"Great! Give me fifteen minutes to get ready, and we'll go." she announced with a beam, revolved on her feet and strode off to the bedroom.

* * *

 

She wasn't lying when she said fifteen minutes, but with how she stole Jack's breath, she looked like she had spent three hours. Dressed in her customary business suit with a white blouse, black women's blazer and skirt with skin toned tights, she had re-braided her hair to perfection and applied light pink eye shadow, mascara on her upper lashes which flicked off at the ends, just a little bit of blusher and dark pink lipstick.

Jack reckoned she looked a million dollars, and  _then_  some. He felt hideously under-dressed.

"How do I look?" she asked, twirling in a circle.

"Put it this way, I need a cold shower." he winked, still trying to re-ignite his brain. Elsa laughed, and then began to walk through the front door that Jack had just opened for her.

They froze when a voice behind them called out, and turned to find a  _still_  bed-swept Anna stood by the breakfast bar.

"Where are you guys going?" she asked, shyly tracing a circle on the marble whilst avoiding their eyes in a decidedly embarrassed way.

"We're going to the North Pole offices; we'll be back this afternoon." Elsa answered, trying not to let the knowing smirk appear on her features.

"Oh! Cool, have fun…get me a souvenir or something. Erm, listen. Did you guys…you know… _see_  anything?"

Jack and Elsa's words pretty much fell over each other, akin to a massive highway pile-up.

"Nope!"  
"Nope."  
"We didn't see anything."  
"Not a thing."

"Oh good," Anna breathed a sigh of relief, not noticing them share amused glances, "I was just worried you'd be angry that…"

"That you and Kristoff finally slept together?" Elsa finished, a twinkle in her eyes to join the teasing smile. Anna looked bang at them in wide-eyed surprise.

"B-b-but you said you didn't see anything!" she gasped. Elsa chuckled and walked over to her sister, placing her hands on Anna's upper arms in reassurance.

"Anna, you're an adult now. What you and Kristoff do is  _your_  business. Honestly, I'm happy you took the leap after what happened." she soothed, making her sister's cheeks go a fiery red.

"Thanks…'sis." she mumbled, desperately trying to avoid her sister's knowing eyes.

" _That being said,"_  Elsa's expression changed to half amused half threatening, "if I catch Kristoff walking naked through my house again, he'll be singing soprano."

Jack snorted into laughter, and even Elsa had to struggle to stop herself from sniggering. If it was possible, Anna went even redder as her eyes went wide in horror.

"He didn't?!"

"Oh, he did."

"I am  _so_  sorry!"

"He gets a pass this time. Anyway, I have to go. Have a nice day, 'sis." Elsa smiled, hugged her sister tightly and then walked out of the front door, Jack snickering under his breath as he followed, closing the door behind him.

* * *

 

The drive to the North Pole Toy Industries was uneventful, save for a quick stop at a department store for Elsa to get a present. Wondering what she could get Jack for Christmas, she had remembered something that was in  _her_ kitchen that wasn't in his when she had stayed the night. She had deflected his suspicions with a little white lie; Kristoff had been after a particular album by Mumford & Sons for some time.

After a ninety minute drive north of Arendelle City, the Impala pulled in to one of the non-disabled parking spaces closest to the main door. Elsa rose from the car and took in the sight.

The Pole building was a single floor, circular structure, designed to almost look like a workshop. The roof was domed with a pair of towers along the eastern circumference of the main building. Those towers possessed classic Russian onion domes, one had red and white stripes, the other had red and black.

"Nick is half Russian," Jack explained, noticing Elsa's poorly disguised awe, "though you wouldn't think it by how he speaks."

"Oh, I can see that," Elsa responded with an understanding tone, "my dad was the same. Half-Norwegian, so he went for late 1700's Scandinavian architecture for Snowfield Tower."

Inside, it was different. Nick had gone for a wooden interior, electing for polished mahogany walls, rich red carpet and mellow, warm lights. It gave Elsa a cosy feeling, like walking into a hotel from the Twenties. The receptionist smiled brightly at Jack who nodded politely, and she buzzed the door to allow the two of them into the main building.

The connecting corridor, continuing the mahogany theme, was in a cross shape, with the four main rooms forming the segments to constitute the circular architecture. It was definitely bustling, and Elsa got the distinct impression that controlled chaos was the order of the day. Employees ran out of one room into the other, couriers rode the internal mail trolleys down the corridor like kids at a supermarket, and Christmassy motivational posters adorned the walls.

"If I ever take over," Jack muttered, barely audible over the ambient noise, "I'm making sure Valium is mandatory."

Elsa laughed, but she couldn't help agreeing. The polar contrast between this and Snowfield Tower's reserved serenity was almost terrifying.

"Come on, Nick's office is this way." he pointed to the corridor that led to the eastern towers, holding her hand tightly. They walked briskly through the chaos, Jack stopping to berate a courier for nearly running Elsa over with his trolley. The admonished man promptly apologised and continued in a decidedly calmer manner, Jack's steely gaze burning into his back.

"Elves…" he muttered angrily to himself. Elsa didn't even want to know why they possessed such a moniker.

Finally reaching the door to the eastern towers, Jack opened it to let Elsa through first, into the quiet sanctity of the elevator that would take them to the highest floor. After the noisy, frenetic display on their journey down the corridors, Elsa was openly thankful for the relative silence in the elevator as it ascended toward the top floor.

"I'm glad I'm taking my meds," Jack mused thoughtfully, "because I think I'd have killed a few of the employees by now."

Elsa chuckled and squeezed his hand. He looked to his right and his eyes fell upon her reassuring cerulean pools, and within seconds he felt the irritation just wash away.

"Thank you for coming with me." he smiled bashfully. Elsa winked in response.

"No place I'd rather be." she murmured, leaning over to kiss his jaw with a delicate touch, and pulling back just as the doors opened, and the full glory of Nick's office greeted them.

It was huge, and a little messy. The floor was solid mahogany flooring, with a massive red rug stretching from his desk to the fireplace at the other end of the room. Sunlight streamed in through the large window directly opposite the lift, and the bare sandstone walls were adorned with various decorations that he had accumulated over his many years of travelling the world for work-related meetings. A pair of crossed sabres was mounted on a shield-shaped wooden plaque on the wall behind his desk, which supported a medium-sized pewter statue of a sleigh pulled by nine reindeer. To the right of that, a Russian doll of a rather intimidating looking Father Christmas.

Elsa got the distinct impression that this was Nick's home away from home.

"Ah! You've arrived at last!" boomed Nick's voice from their left. Jack and Elsa turned to find him finishing a conversation with an equally large man, who had long mousey brown hair and a fuzzy beard that rivalled Nick's own. Elsa quietly remarked to herself that the resemblance between the man and Chewbacca was uncanny.

"Yeah. Elsa wanted to come along, see the madness you call Head Office." Jack said, the last part being a bit of a dig. Nick didn't take it as such, his expression and nod of agreement made that clear.

"Miss Snowfield, it's nice to meet you again." he smiled and bowed his head slightly in acknowledgement. Jack frowned and mouthed ' _again?'_ to her, which she responded with a  _'long story'_ expression.

"The same to you, Mr St North. I notice that your office is rather…lively?" she smiled, surreptitiously rapping Jack's hand when he tried to suppress a snort.

"Please, call me Nicholas, or Nick. Yes, my office is a bit…busy I suppose, but I try to make it look as homely as I can. Oh, this is my right-hand man, Phil." he indicated to the wookiee stood beside him. 'Phil' nodded with a polite grunt.

"So, why am I here?" Jack asked, eager to get to the point. Nick seemed to suddenly remember the reason he had called, and with a quick jerk downwards of his red sweater he strode over to his desk and slid a sheet of paper from the writing mat in the centre. Jack and Elsa followed him over, taking the two mauve rich leather chairs directly in front of the desk.

"This is why." Nick declared, with a slightly foreboding tone. Jack accepted the sheet of paper and held it to his right so Elsa could read. It bore a horizontal graph, with the dots slowly dropping as the connecting line travelled across the x axis.

"Sales projections." Elsa nodded, reading between the lines.

"A fall in profits." Jack echoed.

"Exactly," Nick agreed, taking the high-backed leather chair on the other side of the desk, "projections for the next two years, and the rest of the documents are on the board by the elevator. The way things are going, we'll be breaking even this time next year, and making a loss the year after that – and with toys being one of the most purchased items over the Christmas period, that will be a problem."

"Okay, so, why do you need me?"

"I need a fresh pair of eyes, Jack. You see, I am a businessman from an older time; the rules are different in today's world. The shareholders and I believe that a younger mind could solve this problem…or in this case, younger  _minds_."

Jack narrowed his eyes a little, there was something amiss here. He decided to bite, anyway and glanced to his right to see what Elsa's reaction was…and she looked almost excited.

"Alright, we'll take a look." Jack agreed, exhaling with mild resignation. Nick clapped his hands together with an expression of cheery pride, and rose from his chair.

"Excellent! I need to keep the peace between the Yetis and the Elves, so I will leave you two alone to your thoughts. Phil," he turned to the giant of a man stood near the elevator, "could you bring some mulled wine for our guests?"

_Yetis? Elves? This place is crazy._

"Nick, I'm  _driving._  Coffee is fine." Jack protested, but Nick waved it off.

"Nonsense! It's Christmas, you don't drink coffee at  _Christmas!"_

Jack opened his mouth to protest some more, but eventually acquiesced. Elsa looked mildly amused at the conversation, suppressing light giggles behind her hand. Life in the Pole building was definitely different to Snowfield Towers.

Nick bowed his head in respect and entered the elevator with Phil, leaving the two heirs in peace.

"I can think of some other things to do while we have the room to ourselves." Jack murmured coyly, prompting a fierce blush from Elsa as she stood, itching to see the rest of the information on the board.

"Easy, tiger." she reprimanded him teasingly, not totally averse to the idea. Jack rose from his chair and, studying the paper, walked with Elsa toward the cork board that was adorned with several similar documents. Some had sales projections of similar toy lines; others were of costs of production versus profit from sales over the past two months. Their eyes roved over every detail, assimilating the information.

"This is  _stupid_." Jack tersely remarked. Elsa gave him a puzzled look. Noticing this, Jack quickly exhaled and clarified his thoughts.

"You and I both know that this is a run-of-the-mill business problem. Nick could solve this in his sleep, but he's asked  _us_  to do it." he explained, crossing one arm over his chest to support the other, which was held vertically in order to rest a finger on his lips in thought.

"That, and he's not tapped into any trends." Elsa agreed, folding her arms as she leaned forward to read a list of toys that had been manufactured and sold over the past few months.

"Exactly. He's better than this." Jack muttered, his suspicion dominating his thoughts.

"Meh, we might as well entertain him. Besides, this is actually kind of  _fun._ " she smiled, lightly nudging him with her right elbow. Jack gave her an incredulous look, to which she responded with a  _'What?'_  shrug.

"Okay, so you're pretty much right on the money about trends. There's nothing here that's tied to a specific brand name, or television show or whatever. I mean, Fractal Fashion is making a killing with your  _Olaf_  merchandise, so I find it hard to believe Nick would have missed this."

Elsa couldn't help but grind her teeth in irritation.  _Olaf_  reminded her of the company, which then reminded her of Black. She'd been trying to avoid letting it ruin her thoughts today.

"What's the biggest trend going on right now?" she wondered out loud. Jack clicked his finger as an idea landed on his head, and being on the same wavelength, the same idea popped into her head too. They both turned and pointed at each other, as you do when someone provides you with an epiphany.

" _Movies._ " came the simultaneous answer.

"There are loads of blockbuster movies coming out over the next two years…" Jack began.

"…and how many of them are comic book movies?" Elsa finished, grinning.

"Exactly, people are going crazy for Marvel stuff right now, and if we tapped into  _that_  trend…" he started.

"…the profit margin would be huge. We…I mean you could be the sole manufacturer of Marvel toys and merchandise!" Elsa finished, checking herself.

"So, we'd need to draw up a proposal for the Marvel and Disney executives…"

"Hmm, from what I hear, they are notoriously reluctant to outsource. That could be a tough sell. Maybe you could write a clause?"

"Yeah…give them a sample of our stuff; maybe make a batch of  _Age of Ultron_  figures. See what they think, and if they like it…"

"…then we…you can negotiate a longer contract. You could be their go-to company for all further merchandise." Elsa finished, sidling closer to Jack and sliding her right arm around his waist. He returned the gesture by tucking his left hand across her back and under her left arm. Not stopping there, he turned his head to apply a soft, tender kiss to her temple, eliciting a fierce storm of butterflies in her stomach and a light  _'mmm'_  from her throat.

"We make a good team." he announced earnestly. Elsa felt herself smile and quietly agreed.

* * *

 

Not long after berating a hapless Kristoff for his heinous crime that morning, Anna had wrangled him into taking her to the city for some last-few-days Christmas shopping…and a free pumpkin spiced latte from his branch of Starbucks, of course.

Continuing the theme of taking leaps, Anna had decided to ride Kristoff's motorcycle with him which, bucking the usual trend of feminine names, he had lovingly named  _Sven_. Maybe she was keen to find herself once more, to prevent herself from being shackled by her fears and doubts. Maybe she wanted to take some risks, to prove to herself that Anna Snowfield is  _no_  shrinking violet.

After all, she took the biggest leap of faith the previous night when they gave themselves to each other, ignoring the rising panic and worry and just letting herself go. Given the nature of her nightmares, it was a bold move.

And it worked, for the most part.

Kristoff rode the motorcycle at a steadier pace than he usually would, taking less risks and being very careful, knowing that it was Anna's first time on  _Sven_. She still held on for grim death, though…but when they reached the coffee house she couldn't help but let loose a loud  _whoop_  in pride that she had conquered yet another fear.

"Woo, that was a rush!" she exclaimed, pulling off the helmet and shaking her hair like she was in a hair commercial.

"Liked it?" he asked, ruffling his hair after it had adopted the shape of his helmet's interior.

" _Loved_  it. Thank you for going easy on me…though I think we should get a coffee first. I need my legs back. Seriously, I'm buzzing." She rambled slightly. Kristoff chuckled to himself.

"What my lady wants, my lady gets. One pumpkin spiced latte, coming right up." he announced, bowing like a servant before trotting off into Starbucks.

Anna hitched up her grey denim trousers and elected to remain by the bike until her body became used to being stationary, leaning against the seat. She could feel the heat radiating from the engine, and she shuffled a little closer to the source. It was her personal oasis of warmth in the cold winter morning.

She reached into the pocket of her plum hooded sweater to pull out her phone, and with excited pride typed and fired a message off to her elder sister.

_"Kristoff and I are in the city! I rode his bike! Also, could you get a pic of Mr St North's office? I REALLY want to see what it looks like. Love you! – Anna xox"_

She slipped the phone back into her sweater and gazed up and down the snowy street, where shoppers bustled in and out of stores clutching several bags of presents. Tinsel adorned the many storefronts, and on the tip of the street lamps hung Christmas lights, all identical shooting stars in various colours.

This is a  _good_  morning, she had decided. Her relationship was stronger, she had gotten over her fears and came out on top, and she felt  _awesome_.

And yet, a familiar voice found its way to her ears, from an alleyway two stores to the right. She knew exactly who the voice belonged to, but it held a hint of dread, of disquiet that made its way into the pit of her stomach. It was like remembering a nightmare.

"Hey, you okay?" She barely registered Kristoff's question when he had reappeared, it was though his voice was a world away. The ambient sounds of the street coalesced into a white noise, and as though she had lost control of her body, with a frown of creeping realisation she slowly rose from the bike and silently walked towards the alleyway.

As she closed in, the voices became clear and she could make out the hurried, hissed words.

 _"So where does it end? Three years ago was_ one _thing, but this?"_

 _"Don't tell me that you're getting cold feet_ now _. Your hands are just as red as mine."_

_"I'm not getting cold feet! It's just…"_

Anna approached the corner into the alleyway and stood in front of the two speakers, an expression of realisation and anger settling upon her once-buoyant features. Kristoff caught up to her clutching the two coffees, and his face was soon etched with protective rage.

_"I just think we've gone too far this time…wait…someone's here…"_

Both men turned toward the new arrivals, and Anna felt her heart thunder in her chest, and flashbacks of everything before she lost consciousness rushed through her mind, sending a lightning storm of dread to mix with the burning fury. The barely concealed contempt. The oily, saccharine voice. The revolting aftershave.

The hairs standing up on the back of her neck, and the unpleasant shiver in her spine.

"It was  _you_." she hissed, clenching her fists. Kristoff placed the coffee on the snowy ground. It would probably melt everything around it, but he didn't care. All that mattered right now was he had to either dive in to protect his fiancée, or give in to his own fury and start the fight himself.

Pritchard Black regarded her with an expression of  _'What are_ you _looking at?'_ and Hans nervously looked between the two. Anna could see the bruises on his face and neck, the tape on a recently broken nose and the cuts adorning his pale lips, and Hans didn't look much better.

" _What_  was me?" he sneered, his upper lip attempting to curl.

"That night. In the alleyway. You drugged me. You tried to rape me." Anna hissed, her body tensing as it decided whether to quail in fear or charge with anger. Her arms began to shake, and she could feel her nails digging in to the palms of her hands.

Kristoff started forward, with the intention of beating the ever-living hell out of the man that caused Anna so much pain. His face was contorted with ill-concealed rage, but Anna's arm shot out and stopped him in his tracks. His eyes darted down to her face with the lack of comprehension and more than a little irritation, until he saw an almost imperceptible shake of the head.

_'No. He's mine.'_

"It was you, wasn't it?" she repeated, advancing upon the Black heir like an unstoppable army. Hans backed away, but Pritchard stood his ground.

"Of course it was." he replied calmly.

"Why?" she asked, her jaw clenched.

" _Why?_  Because I wanted to. And because I  _can_."

That was it. With a speed born of furious lightning, Anna drew her right hand back and smashed her knuckles into Pritchard's still-healing nose. With a sickening crunch and a horrified yell, the impact snapped his head back and he fell backwards onto the snow, his hand trying in vain to stem the blood.

Kristoff's jaw dropped, and he felt the anger just disappear, replaced by awe and shock. Anna flexed her fingers and shook her hand to assuage the pain in her knuckles, but it was a good pain. It  _felt_  good.

She felt good.

Whirling on the balls of her feet, she left the whimpering Pritchard on the ground and, noticing the coffee cups on the floor next to a gaping Kristoff, picked them up and offered one to him. He turned his head with a blank expression, eyes darting from the coffee cup to her light-blue pools, wondering what the hell just happened.

"Jack had all the fun that night, so I wanted to have a go." she smiled, proud of her achievement. Not only had she stood up to her would-be rapist, she had  _floored_  him. Kristoff nodded numbly, and without thinking surged forward and embraced her in an admiring hug…and with a gasp of horror, instantly pulled back.

"Heyheyhey! Get back here!" Anna hissed indignantly, a half-smile on her lips.

"Sorry! I was just…didn't want to scare…wait, what?"

"I said: get back here. Do you see me freaking out? Nope! Gimme my hug." she grinned, waves of happiness crashing through her. Kristoff beamed, and surged forward once more. Anna buried her head into his chest, and murmured something about  _'getting on with the shopping',_ so Kristoff reluctantly released her, and offered her the crook of his free arm. Hooking her own through his, they proudly walked around the corner, away from the whimpering Pritchard.

"Well, she's something." Hans murmured almost admiringly, earning a contemptuous glare from his cohort as he struggled to his feet.

* * *

 

Elsa laughed as she read Anna's text message, and after opening the camera function on her phone she began to take pictures of the various knick-knacks in Nick's office. Jack regarded her with a puzzled expression as she took photo after photo, probably enough to fill a mural. Shaking his head with amused bewilderment, he returned his gaze to the board and jumped out of his skin when a deep, booming voice resounded from the lift, its owner sounding very, very angry.

" _What are you doing!"_

Elsa squeaked in surprise and whirled around, facing a decidedly furious Nick. Jack instantly went to her side and supportively entwined his fingers with hers, attempting a protective stance. Nick strode towards them, his tall frame at least six inches above their own. Jack had never seen his godfather angry at all.

Nick stared at them for a good long while, fury in his eyes as he glanced between the two heirs who looked like scolded children.

"I-I-I'm sorry, Mr St North…I-" Elsa stuttered, but Nick cut her off.

With a resounding, booming, mirthful laugh.

"Hah! Oh, you should see your faces! If only I had a camera!"

Jack and Elsa shared uncertain, worried glances, tightening the embrace in their hands.

"Please, go right ahead!" he finished, barely able to get the words out between hearty guffaws.

Elsa nodded slowly, wary of Jack's godfather in case he exploded again, in case the joking laughter was false.

"That was mean." Jack declared, folding his arms and fixing Nick with a half-amused, half-reproachful expression. He couldn't help the smile though, it was rare that Nick got one over him but he had definitely been suckered this time.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't resist! Anyway, how have you got on?" Nick asked in between dwindling chuckles, wiping mirthful tears from his eyes, trying to prevent the laughter from coming back whenever Elsa shot him a worried glance as she continued to take pictures.

"Movie merchandise. Right now, you're missing out. You need to make a deal with, say, Marvel to be their go-to guys for the toys based on their movies. The profit you'll make will still be a hell of a lot more than now, even  _with_  the cut Marvel takes."

Thoughtfully stroking his beard, Nick looked off to the side as he debated the possibilities. Yes, it was a risk, but given the falling profits expected over the next two years, it was a gamble worth taking.

"Good work. We'll open negotiations in the New Year." he decided, clapping his godson on the shoulder. Jack almost buckled with the force of the gesture.

"I can't take all the credit," he said, nodding his head over to Elsa who was taking a picture of the sleigh statue, "she came up with it too."

Nick raised his eyebrows and smiled with an expression of  _'Did she now?'._ Elsa, feeling her ears burning, stopped her task and carefully walked over to the CEO, clutching her phone close to her chest with both hands.

"Sorry, I was just…my sister Anna loves your toys, and she's been bugging me for a souvenir. I'm taking pictures instead…" she explained shyly. Nick folded his arms and regarded her with a  _'Why didn't you say so?'_  look.

"A souvenir? I think I can manage that!" he announced, striding over to his desk.

"No, no, Mr St North, I can't ask you to-" she began, waving her hands in embarrassment.

"Nonsense," he spoke dismissively, picking up the Russian doll and striding back to place it in her hands, "after how happy you've made my godson, I am in your debt."

Elsa, her cheeks instantly catching fire glanced at Jack, who had also flushed a deep crimson, trying not to smile shyly as he looked away.

"It was given to me by a business associate many, many years ago. Apparently, I look like a very scary Father Christmas. In any case, that is my gift to your sister. Please." he smiled, gesturing with an open hand that she should accept the doll.

"Thank you." Elsa nodded, smiling warmly and  _still_  fighting the red in her cheeks.

"We should…erm…we should probably be going…" Jack murmured, slowly shuffling toward the elevator. Nick nodded, and gasped as he clicked his fingers.

"Oh! Phil hasn't brought you the mulled wine!"

"Nick…" Jack began, but it was no use. He had already strode back to the desk, pulled a fresh bottle from the lowest drawer and pushed it into Jack's arms.

"It's Christmas, Jack. Live a little." he grinned. Jack had no choice but to comply, especially with Elsa quietly giggling by his side.

The two heirs returned to Elsa's abode two hours later, both quite exhausted, and the first thing Elsa did as soon as she walked through the door was load the coffee dispenser with a fresh pod, water and set it going, shortly before placing the bottle of mulled wine and the gift from Nick on the breakfast bar.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this, but Nick's building is  _crazy_." she sighed, flopping onto the breakfast bar stool as she waited for the machine to finish its task.

"I know, right? I think he's got all the employees from an asylum for the insane or something." Jack muttered in agreement, leaning on the kitchen counter with his arms folded. Elsa sniggered quietly, and reached out her left hand, feathering her fingers. Jack smiled and reached out his right, and as soon as their tips connected she pulled him closer to her.

"You were very good." she murmured, placing her hands on his waist.

"So were you." his smile broadened as he tucked in a stray hair, re-introducing it to its friends.

"Why thank you, kind sir." she smiled, stroking the sides of his chest through his shirt and waistcoat.

"So, what do you want to do now?" he asked, stroking her cheek with the smoothest touch.

"Hmm. I think: Kiss, then coffee and a movie. In that order." she whispered, the hint of an command in her words. Jack was only too happy to obey.

He slowly bent his head downwards to meet her lips with a delicate, soft kiss. She moaned quietly into his mouth, and to deepen the affectionate union he cupped her face in his hands, stroking her cheeks with his thumbs.

She totally and utterly melted into the kiss, almost feeling a part of herself rise up from her chest, ascend her neck and slip into him through the contact. What was it about this man that made her heart thunder so? She couldn't decide. It could be his eyes, or his hair. The cold yet burning touch of his skin, or the smooth rumble of his deep voice. Or the way he looked at her like she was the most precious person in the world, that only she earned the look of affection whereas every other woman bar Anna received an indifferent frown.

Was this love? It could be.

She didn't have much time to think on it, because in a tag-team attack her phone vibrated in her blazer pocket at the same time as the coffee dispenser finished its mission, her mocha sat proudly in her favourite mug. Slowly releasing her mouth, as though to make the most of every second their lips touched, Jack parted the embrace to replace the Mocha pod with an Americano that was waiting by the side of the dispenser, utilising the same mug that Eugene had used two weeks ago. He definitely liked that mug.

Elsa smiled to herself and nursed the fluttering feeling in her chest as she pulled her phone from her pocket, noticing that the message was from Anna.

_"Almost done in the city, you need anything? Are you still at the Pole? Did you get anything? – Anna xox"_

Elsa clicked her fingers and hurriedly typed a reply – she had indicated to the store clerk that she would arrive later to pick up the surprise present, but she really didn't feel like going out again today. Rising from the stool, she walked over to the sofa and flopped down just as she sent the message on its way.

_"Yeah, could you pick up Jack's present from Fjord Department Store? It's reserved under my name. Nah, we just got home, about to have a coffee and watch a movie. And yeah, I got some pictures, and Mr St North has given me a souvenir for you. – Elsa x"_

_"Awesome! Can't wait. Oh, I've got some good news for you too, 'sis! Will tell you when we get back. – Anna xox"_

Elsa grinned, and wondered what this news could be. She briefly entertained the hope that the Black Advertising company had suddenly and inexplicably gone into administration, but shook that idea right out of her head. Right now, she just wanted to relax on the sofa, cuddle up to Jack and drink coffee while watching…

" _Captain America: The Winter Soldier_  okay?" Jack asked, appearing to her left clutching both coffees and a Blu-ray under his arm, one of the items from the plastic bags he brought the day before.

"Perfect, but I should warn you. I seem to be attracted to damaged, aloof men." she teased, taking the mocha from Jack's outstretched hand and sipping it with a coyly raised eyebrow.

"Oh really? You like the Winter Soldier, huh?" he smirked, placing his coffee on the table and walking over to the Playstation 4, bending over to replace the  _Infinity_  disc with the movie. Elsa cocked her head sideways to get a better look, raising her eyebrows appreciatively. He was doing that just for her, and she knew it. She was going to make the most of the view anyway.

Straightening up, he returned to the sofa and flopped by Elsa's side, picking up the controller on the way and pressing a few buttons as soon as his butt touched the soft material. Fairly soon, Steve Rogers was now completely outrunning Sam Wilson on the screen.

_"On your left."_

Jack snickered, he had watched this several times before and he always got a kick out of Wilson's reaction later in the scene. He glanced sideways and noticed that Elsa had undone her braid and was scratching her scalp, which was decidedly appreciative of the freedom. Feeling the need to pamper her, he gently held her wrists to stop her.

"Here, let me." he soothed, then splayed his fingertips around her scalp and began to lightly massage around her hair.

"Ohhhh…" she quietly moaned, pretending to roll her eyes into the back of her head with pleasure and leaning into his fingertips, the massage proving to be almost intoxicating.

"Good?"

"Put it this way, I'm in heaven…and if you stop, no-one will ever find your body." she almost whimpered, the light pressure sending pleasurable tingles all over her body, instantly relaxing her muscles and making her melt into the sofa. Jack sniggered but obliged, and didn't stop until well into the next scene.

Eventually his fingers ached, so with an apologetic kiss to her head he rested his right arm over Elsa's shoulders. She shuffled closer to him and rested her newly relaxed head against his chest, sighing contentedly as she snaked a hand onto his lap. His left hand moved over and entwined itself with hers.

"Looking forward to Christmas?" she murmured, twisting her head up to look into his eyes. Jack merely smiled, and their lips sealed together once more, feeling her soft luscious mouth inextricably link itself to his own, and her left hand remove itself from his to gently stroke down the left side of his face, igniting a fire from his temple all the way down to his jaw.

"I am now." he whispered, closing his eyes and resting his forehead against hers.

Half an hour later, Anna and Kristoff burst through the door, the younger sister quickly darting into her bedroom carrying the suspicious package that Jack was not to see. Kristoff tapped the door closed with his foot, dropped the other bags of shopping and re-activated the coffee dispenser once more, starting with his fiancée's mug and pod first. In a flash, Anna reappeared in the living room and flopped down onto the other sofa, unzipping her boots and then stretching out on the luxurious fabric to watch the movie, a content and relaxed sigh escaping her lips.

Elsa wordlessly brought up the pictures she had taken on her phone and tossed the device onto Anna's chest, who reacted with an  _'oof'_ and a scowl when it landed. The scowl quickly changed to wide-eyed wonder upon seeing the veritable wealth of material in Elsa's pictures, murmurs of  _'woah'_  and  _'that is so cool'_  escaping her lips. Elsa smiled at her sister's quiet exclamations, and then remembered about the souvenir.

"Kris, that thing next to the bottle of mulled wine, could you bring it over to Anna?" she called to the burly man, who was finishing making his coffee. He grunted his assent, and clutching the doll under his arm along with the two coffees in his hand, he approached the sofa that Anna was currently dominating, clearing his throat. Begrudgingly, she lifted her legs to allow him to sit, and after leaning forward to place the mugs on the table, he reached under his left arm and passed the Russian doll to Anna.

Instantly, she pulled herself up to a cross-legged position and gasped at the 'souvenir', almost snatching it from Kristoff's hands and taking in every detail.

"He looks like a badass Father Christmas!" she grinned, then pulled off the top part to reveal the smaller doll inside.

"Now he's jolly," she announced, and as she pulled off each of the smaller tops, "mysterious, fearless, caring…and at the center…aww! Big eyes of wonder! Your godfather is awesome."

Jack chuckled. That's Nick alright. Anna bolted upright as she remembered what the good news she had been waiting to tell her elder sister since it happened.

"Oh! I found out who it was that tried to…you know…that night!" she gasped, almost bouncing with pride. Elsa and Jack's eyes snapped to hers and their bodies stiffened, their attention focused on her.

"It was Pritchard Black." she announced.

Elsa felt the searing heat of rage burn in her chest and she squeezed Jack's hand almost to breaking point. Her stomach churned and she felt so, so nauseous. Her boyfriend also began to feel the fury grip his heart once more, the same fury that coursed through him when he fought the two men that fateful night…but it was tinged with something else.

"That son of a…" Elsa snarled, rising from the sofa ready to march out of the door, find the odious prick and break his arm.

"Elsa, it's okay! I'm okay! Know why? Because I broke his nose!" Anna declared in a bright, cheery voice.

Jack's rising anger seemed to stop dead, and he couldn't help but snort into laughter. He couldn't picture this guy, but the thought of sweet little Anna administering such a well-placed punch and being gleeful about it was hilarious.

"What?" Elsa murmured, her eyes wide as she tried to assimilate the new information. A hated enemy was responsible for screwing with Anna's mind, and that pissed her off so much…but it was mixed with pride at her little sister's revenge. Eventually, pride won through and with a wild grin, she stepped over to her sister and embraced her in a tight, loving hug.

"I'm all better now!" Anna whispered into her sister's ear, feeling the embrace tighten just that little bit more in response. Elsa eventually released her, and returned to her original position in Jack's arms, nestling her head onto his shoulder. She glanced at his face and he was still smiling, but the twinkle in his eyes was missing. Was there something else hidden behind those cobalt pools?

There was.

His mind automatically went through the clues. The two men in the college. The bottle of liquid. Their presence in the club, and the large amount of cash handed over to the bartender.

The slicked back, slightly spiky black hair, and the little pinpricks of gold in the alleyway.

There  _was_  something else hidden. The feeling of familiarity, as though recalling a dream from long, long ago.

* * *

 

"Argh! Watch what you're doing, idiot!" Black hissed, recoiling from the junior doctor that had been called to his apartment. The unfortunate man could smell the vodka on the heir's breath, and it was making him feel sick. He just wanted to get the job done and get away from this guy as fast as he could.

"Sorry, sir. I won't be long…" the young man muttered, cleaning up the blood from Black's nose.

Hans sat on the rich leather chair directly opposite his 'friend', watching the doctor go about his ministrations and inwardly chuckling at the flickers of pain shooting through Black's face.

"What do you want to do about Anna?" he asked, leaning forward intently. The hand that held the bottle of vodka waved dismissively, spilling some of its contents over the floor.

"She's nothing. Not worth my time." Black snarled, hissing a breath once more as the pain shot through his face.

"Okay then, what's your next move?"

Black was about to answer when another flash of pain interrupted his speech, and with startling reflexes his right hand shot out and grabbed the doctor's tie, yanking him down so that their faces were inches from each other.

"If you are not gentle from this moment on, I will have your medical licence revoked, your bank accounts frozen and you will spend the rest of your life on the streets, am I clear?" he snarled into the doctor's face. To his credit, the young man was unmoved.

"Then it's a good thing I'm finished. Use an ice pack to calm the irritation, keep your head tilted back and try not to piss anyone off." he replied coolly, and after a few agonising seconds Black reluctantly released him. Quickly gathering the used medical wipes into a biohazard bag, he slipped off the gloves and quickly left the apartment. Scowling, Black made sure the man was well out of earshot, and then fixed his gaze to an invisible point outside the window.

"You are to do something for me. Anna mentioned someone called 'Jack', and I assume he was the one that attacked me outside the club. I want you to find out  _who_  he is, and everything about him."

"And if I do, what happens then?" Hans asked, but he had a feeling he knew what the answer would be.

Pritchard's gaze shifted from the window towards his minion, and the look in his golden, hate-filled eyes confirmed Hans's suspicions. He had seen that look twice before.

His  _'insurance'_  folder was getting thicker by the week.


	24. Senseless

It had been a long, long day, and the evening had given way to night at five that Saturday.

Nicholas St North stretched out on the huge sofa in front of the roaring fire, relieved to be home. Straightening his legs and crossing them at the ankles, and resting his arms either side of him along the back of the sofa, he closed his eyes and listened to the crackling of the fire in front of him, felt the soothing heat tickle what little skin was exposed on his body.

Ambience was important to him, which was why he wasn't too keen on Snowfield Towers. To him, Christmas meant lots of tinsel, a roaring fire, toys all over the place, a giant tree, family, mulled wine and the most important thing…

Hot chocolate. With marshmallows and a sprinkling of cinnamon, naturally.

"Here you go, honey."

Nick opened his eyes and they slowly moved to the right, and a smile hitched up his beard like a curtain tie. Thiana stood to the side of him, holding a giant mug in one hand which threatened to pull her arm down, and a smaller mug in the other. Nick could see the marshmallows poking out above the rim.

"Thank you, hummingbird." he replied smoothly, accepting the mug from his wife. The smell of chocolate and cinnamon caressed his senses, and as his wife sat beside him to enjoy the roaring fire, everything felt just right.

"How did it go?" she asked curiously, taking a light sip of the steaming liquid.

"Quite well. Phil and I managed to fake some sales projections before they arrived, and they were able to work out the problem, and come to a solution. I'm quite proud of him, though I reckon he thinks I'm up to something."

"He wouldn't be your godson if he didn't. Anyway, what do you mean by  _'they'?"_

"Oh, Elsa came with him. In fact, they seem to work very well together, from what I could tell." Nick explained, noting Thiana's raised eyebrows and pursed teasing lips, as if to say  _'Oh, she did, huh?"._ He sipped from his own hot chocolate, making an appreciate rumble in his throat.

"I don't know how you do it, my hummingbird, but you always make exceptional hot chocolate."

Thiana made a light giggle. There was a time when she would have blushed a frightful red and looked away shyly at such a sincere compliment, but after twenty years of marriage she was used to his flattery. It still made her swell with pride, though.

"I wanted to ask, where would you like to celebrate the New Year?" he said, stroking a large finger through her electric blue hair. It was one of the things Nick loved about his wife, her irrepressible sense of individuality. Blue hair and tie-dye dresses were considered by society to be an odd combination, but his wife wore it so well, and he wouldn't have it any other way.

"I was thinking Thailand? What about you?"

Nick was about to agree, when the sound of Wizzard's  _I Wish It Could Be Christmas Every Day_  floated into the living room from his bulky winter overcoat in the hall. He placed a delicate and slightly tickly kiss to his wife's temple as he rose from the sofa.

"Sounds perfect. I'll be right back."

He closed the distance to the source of the music in very little time, and upon sliding his phone out of the inner breast pocket, he glanced at the screen – and saw Kai's number. He quickly answered the call and raised the phone to his ear.

"Kai! What can I do for you?

_"I…I wanted to ask if you could apologise to your godson for me."_

"What? Why? Was his offer not sound?"

_"No…it's not that, it's just…"_

Nick listened patiently as Kai explained the visit he had received not long after Jack had left, including the photographs and the threat. The sighs and the growls even caught Thiana's interest, and she leaned against the living room doorframe as she listened to her husband.

"So, you feel you have no choice? If that is the case, my godson will understand if you told him yourself."

_"That's correct. I regret not taking Mr Overland up on his offer that minute, but I'm afraid that my hands are now tied. After Monday morning, there will be nothing any of us can do. I'm sorry, Nicholas, and…I suppose you're right, I do owe him that much."_

Then he hung up. Nick stared at the screen, wondering what to make of all of this. Thiana broke the pregnant silence, concerned as to why the phone call seemed to mercilessly shoot down her husband's jolly mood.

"What happened?"

"Kai is being coerced into assisting Black. He is to place his majority stock on the market when it opens on Monday, so Black can snap them up."

"Why doesn't he refuse?"

"Well, the way he describes it, Southernisle have him dead-to-rights, and with these photographs he has described, I am not sure I would do it any differently in his position."

"Okay, so what are you going to do about it?" she asked pointedly, taking a large sip of her drink. The combination of the melted marshmallows and the chocolate never failed to warm her chest.

"I…I'm not sure."

"Well, I don't know the full story," she began, swallowing the mouthful of delicious hot chocolate, "but it seems to me that Black wants to be quick about acquiring the shares, so he chose that specific time, yes?"

"That's about the size of it." Nick nodded.

"So, we need to be _quicker_." she grinned with a twinkle in her eyes, and returned to the living room. Nick stared after her, feeling the smile hitch up his beard once more. Thiana was exceptionally good at cutting a problem down to its simplest form. Ascending the stairs, two steps at a time, he entered his study and hit the speed-dial on his conference phone, and a gruff voice answered.

"Phil? Get me my stockbrokers."

* * *

 

Jack had gone back to his apartment that Saturday evening, for two reasons. One, he missed it a little bit. After spending six days at Nick's, and then two at Elsa's, he had been looking forward to walking into his apartment, turning the music system up to full blast and chilling out on his sofa while he thought of his life up to now, and those pretty blue eyes that seemed to dominate his mind.

The other reason was that an automated text message had arrived; announcing that the gift he had ordered for Elsa was waiting for him in his apartment. He wanted to check that it was perfect, that the design was exactly the same as the drawing he had replicated, scanned and emailed over to one of Nick's business associates. He also didn't want Elsa to  _see_  it, obviously.

From then, he had kept the little box open and placed it on his bedside cabinet, occasionally staring at its shimmering splendour. He hoped she'd like it. It was the last thing he'd see with his eyes before he drifted off to calm sleep on Sunday night, and would hopefully be the first thing he would see on Monday morning, on the eve of Christmas.

It wasn't.

His phone buzzed to life at six-thirty that morning, with the high tempo opening chords of  _I Will Wait_  resounding throughout his bedroom. He had set that particular song as his ringtone, to serve as a reminder that although he had been practising it all week at Nick's house, there were still a few chord changes he had to master.

Waking with a start, he quickly reached out for the device and checked the caller ID, and frowned to notice that it was an unknown caller. Who would it be at this hour? Definitely not Elsa, her pretty face would fill the screen along with her number if she was the one at the other end of the phone. Could be Anna…it could even be Kristoff. Why it would be him, Jack could only guess.

He decided to appease his curiosity, and pressed the  _answer_  icon.

"Hello?"

_"Hello, am I speaking to Mr Overland?"_

It was Kai, Jack could recognise that smooth, wise tone anywhere.

"Yeah it is, Kai. What's with the early morning?"

_"I apologise for calling you at this hour, but I need to speak to you. Could you come to…come to my office as soon as humanly possible?"_

"Sure, I'll be there in twenty. What's going on?"

_"I decided that I wanted to apologise to you in person."_

"Apologise for-"

The click of an ended call was his only answer.

Jack pulled into one of the parking spaces outside Snowfield Tower about twenty three minutes since that call, his mind racing through every little detail.

During the call Kai didn't sound wise or fatherly, he sounded subdued and depressed. Sure, he had expected a call either shortly after meeting him the previous Friday or over the weekend, but he had heard nothing from either the man himself, or his godfather. Maybe the CEO had just required the entire weekend to think, but it was a poor idea given the dwindling time he had left.

Slipping out of the driver's side door, closing it and then locking the Impala, he pushed through the revolving doors trying to ignore the clenching of his stomach.

The security guard and the receptionist both scrutinized Jack closely, their eyes roving up and down his body as though they were marking a piece of homework. It made him feel a little bit like a piece of meat, until he remembered that in his haste to get out of the house, he had gone for the navy hooded jumper, black jeans and the military jacket. Definitely not business attire, but given the  _'as soon as humanly possible'_  nature of Kai's request, time was of the essence. He shot a look at the receptionist as if to say  _'If you keep staring, I'll start doing tricks'_ , as he passed her desk and she promptly averted her eyes. The security guard still watched him closely, regarding him as something akin to a vagabond who just wanted to come in from the cold.

Ignoring the rude stare, Jack passed the guard and hammered the elevator button, relieved to find that it was already on the first floor, and that he wouldn't have to wait impatiently for it to  _arrive_  as well as endure the vertical journey to the top floor.

He also silently thanked his stars that he wasn't dodging errant couriers on mail trolleys.

After a few agonisingly long minutes, the elevator eventually reached the top floor with a happy  _bing_  and he strode purposefully out and to the right, nodding at the secretary as he passed her into Kai's office.

The first thing he noticed was that Kai's desk was currently supporting two cardboard boxes, one of them filled with a myriad of papers. The bookshelf behind his desk was bare, its contents filling a third that was sat to the right of his chair. Kai was sat on the chair itself, leaning to the right and pulling out the contents of the desk drawers to place them inside the second box, sat on the middle of his writing pad.

"Kai, what's going on?" Jack asked, his eyes taking in the sight of the increasingly empty office. The CEO jerked upright in a startled manner, but as soon as his eyes fell on the newcomer his gaze softened – from fright to despondency.

"It happened as you said it would. I resigned." was the even, but glum reply.

_Wait, what?_

Jack frowned uncomprehendingly, walking forward and keeping his gaze fixed on the now soon-to-be ex-CEO. Kai stiffened in his chair, the way you do when you've been spooked and you're not sure who to trust.

"Why? You had my deal on the table, what happened? You can't resign!" he declared, leaning onto Kai's desk with his hands and waiting for an answer. Kai studied him for a moment, and then with an uncomfortably loud exhalation of breath he reached over into the box of papers and pulled out a manila folder.

" _This_  is why." he answered, his eyes falling upon the folder with a worried, yet resigned expression. Jack furrowed his brows even more. Kai handed the folder to Jack's uncomprehending hand, and the young heir straightened up to see precisely what was going on.

Pulling out the first two sheets, he was treated to the sight of the photographic 'evidence' of Kai's so-called misdeed. It was exactly as he had explained on Friday, a picture of a woman climbing into Kai's car, and another picture of her successfully planting a kiss onto Kai's lips. In his defence, he  _did_  look uncomfortably surprised, and was in the midst of pushing her away.

In both pictures, the woman was blonde and had a French braid.

"Southernisle. They were quicker than I thought." was Jack's only reply. Kai nodded, but gestured limply to the folder.

"There are two more."

Jack narrowed his eyes, placed the first two sheets on desk to free his fingers and then slid the other two out of the folder.

The first one halted his breath, closed his throat to the point that it threatened to never open again, and stilled his heart. Feeling the blood retreat from his face, his hand shook slightly and he felt his legs weaken.

It was a picture of Elsa and Anna, dated during the week that Jack was at his godfather's house. They were sat in Starbucks enjoying coffee…and a pair of red crosses covered their faces.

This was a threat.

"It gets worse." Kai announced grimly, closing his eyes as his head slumped, preparing for Jack's inevitable reaction. Jack wondered how it could possibly be worse…but as he slid the final photograph out of the folder, a chill shot down his spine as his stomach lurched, and he used his free hand to steady himself against Kai's desk as faintness gripped his body.

It was a photograph of the woman from Kai's car, stripped naked and left in a snowy forest. Bruises adorned her face, wrists and body, and her arms were pulled out to the side. Jack didn't need to have a major in forensic science to get the message.

The white skin and the pale, parted lips. The greying, lifeless eyes, and the completely vacant expression.

The French braid.

And as if to punctuate the message, writing was scrawled along the bottom of the picture in thin black marker pen.

_'The leaking of the evidence won't be the only thing that happens.'_

"Motherfuckers." Jack muttered bitterly, once he had regained control. Kai nodded in agreement, then rose from his chair and walked over to Jack to help him stand.

"I was going to sell the shares to you anyway. I was prepared to resign and be the laughing stock of the business world, have my name and face plastered all over the news. It would have been a small price to pay-"

Kai's eyes briefly glanced down at the picture of the unfortunate woman, and then quickly tore themselves away as he returned to the task of packing his boxes.

"-but I will  _not_  risk the lives of my nieces. When those two men handed me those photographs, I had no choice but to sell my stock to Black." he stated with conviction. Much as Jack hated to admit it, he was inclined to agree. In the same position, he wasn't sure he would have reacted any differently.

"When?" Jack weakly asked, unable to tear his eyes from the body.

"Shortly before I called you." Kai answered, delicately placing the Newton's Cradle into the box.

"So Black now owns thirty four percent of the company's shares…" Jack uttered, placing a dejected face into the palm of his hand.

"Yes. I called an emergency shareholder's meeting over the conference phone an hour or two after the men left, explaining the situation and asking if they would be willing to sell at least twenty six percent of their stock to you, so you could still put your plan into effect."

"And?" Jack felt a glimmer of hope. There may be a way to salvage something from this disaster, but Kai's next words killed that hope and threw it unceremoniously into the sea.

"They will not do it. Mr Overland, they are  _terrified_. Some of them have already received blackmail documents in the mail. I am sorry, Mr Overland. There is nothing I, or the company can do."

Jack collapsed into the chair behind him, feeling the dread and nausea grip his body, never to let go. He should have seen this coming.

_I should've seen this! I should've come to Kai earlier, not wasted my time in Nick's house!_

Elsa's face swam into his mind's eye, that undefinable twinkle in her eyes, that gorgeous, luscious smile and that perfect hair. He wondered how the hell he was going to explain this to her. He wondered how much of that happy expression would be left after he did.

He didn't have long to wonder, as a knock on the door and a confused voice reached their ears.

"Jack? Kai? What's going on?"

His head slowly turned to the right and fell upon Elsa's puzzled expression, and he felt his heart begin to break.

Hell of a thing to happen on Christmas Eve.

* * *

 

Elsa wasn't exactly sure what she was feeling.

Sat on one of the chairs opposite Kai's desk, there were a myriad of emotions fighting for dominance inside her as she drowned under the tidal wave of horrible news. Fear, dread, nausea, anger and grief were just a few of them, with many more that she couldn't categorise.

Kai was resigning. Black owned over thirty percent of the shares, and thus was immune to the supermajority amendment. Southernisle had made one veiled and one overt threat.

"My company is dying…" she whispered weakly, clutching the photograph of the woman with shaking, almost pure white hands, tears dripping down and landing with a  _splot_ on the picture. She stared at the unfortunate victim, a chill gripping her spine as she did so. Facially, they looked nothing like each other, but the braid that had long been characterised as Elsa's spoke volumes. It was almost like looking at her own death.

"I'm sorry…" Jack could only mutter. He really didn't know what to say. He cursed himself for not being quicker, for not seeing Southernisle's moves sooner. He cursed himself for not being able to help her.

In a strange way, Elsa's life flashed before her eyes. Years spent studying Business. Months spent behind locked doors, ignoring her sister to prepare for the inheritance of the family company.

All for nothing.

"I wish your ascendancy to CEO was filled with more pomp and circumstance than this, Elsa." Kai murmured, regarding his niece with an apologetic expression.

"CEO of  _what?_ " her eyes snapped up to her uncle, a dark look in those cerulean pools, "I'm not even there yet, and my father's legacy is already going down the drain. All the employees...what happens to them? Do they get fired? Our stock value will drop once the press gets wind of Southernisle's  _'evidence'_ …I get to inherit a poisoned well!"

"Look, Elsa…I'm sure we could work something out with the Pole…" Jack began, but Elsa cut him off. She was hurting and scared and he knew it, but it still didn't take the sting out of her next words.

"Jack, I really don't need pity help right now. What I need is a fucking miracle to happen, not empty words and failed promises. This… _career_  was everything I had prepared for up to this point, and now Black has enough stock to mean that nothing we do or say is going to help. So please, I don't want to hear any more of your  _'plans'_. Given that Mr St North completely missed a textbook case of trend marketing, I'm surprised his company is as big as it is." she snapped harshly, rounding her eyes on his.

Jack stiffened and folded his arms, and both Kai and Elsa saw wrath flit across his eyes for a brief moment, and his expression darken akin to a thunderstorm. It was probably the anger coursing through her body, but she didn't flinch, instead she held his gaze. He inhaled deeply through his nose, letting the conscious breath calm his system.

He probably would have reacted the same way, probably with the addition of a few flying chairs and kicked-over tables – but right now it seemed there was little to be done…and the longer he stayed in the room after seeing Southernisle's photographs, and hearing Elsa's panicked snap, the more angry he would be and then  _he_ was liable to say something hurtful. He closed his eyes and exhaled, feeling the gravity of Elsa's situation weigh his shoulders down.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then." he smiled sadly, and then walked out of the room, taking great care not to slam the door behind him. Elsa closed her eyes as she realised just how harsh the retort was.

_From bad, to worse. Marvellous._

Kai watched the door become still once more and the blurry form of Jack slowly walk toward the elevator and, for a second, he saw what might have been his arm rise to the side of his head. Elsa placed her head in her hands, conscious of the fact that the situation seemed hopeless.

"What will you do?" he asked, his eyes still on the door as the blurry shape came to a sudden stop.

"I don't know… _scorched earth,_ maybe. If Black is going to swallow this company, I want to make it as bitter as possible. In any case, I will have to personally inform our employees and distributors to prepare for being fired by the…new owners." she bitterly snarled the last two words…then frowned as she noticed a small smile curling Kai's mouth.

"Well, you may want to hold back on that." he said.

"Why?" Elsa asked, her confusion deepening. Kai merely nodded to the door as the distorted form became sharper, and Jack burst through like a purposeful storm, pulling his phone from his ear and pressing a button. Resting it on Kai's desk, he stood back and folded his arms.

"Jack, what-" Elsa began, but with his arms still on his chest he silently held up his fingers for her to wait.

"You're on speakers, Nick. I'm with Elsa and Kai."

Elsa felt a little relief that he didn't refer coldly to her as Miss Snowfield, given the earlier snap.

 _"Ah, excellent. I don't have to make three calls then! Anyway, to business."_ came his voice through the speakers. All three of the occupants kept their gazes fixed on the phone, with Elsa occasionally flicking her eyes up to Jack's face in curiosity.

_"Kai, do you remember speaking to me on Saturday night, regarding the threats made by Southernisle and Black's ultimatum?"_

"Yes…" he murmured, wondering where this was going. Jack raised his eyebrows and glanced at Kai.

_"Well, shortly after that I made several calls to my stockbrokers – after promising to pay them a little extra – and had them watch the stock market for when Kai put his shares up for sale."_

"Nick, you sneaky-" Jack began, but Nick cut him off.

_"Don't interrupt, Jack, that's rude. In any case, they were to purchase as much of Kai's stock as possible, and they did. We didn't manage to get all twenty-six percent, however."_

"How much did you get?" Elsa asked, her interest and hope flourishing.

_"Approximately sixteen percent. I wish it could be more, however."_

"Nick, I could kiss you." Jack gushed. He  _never_  gushed. Kai looked up for an explanation.

_"As I understand it, Black now has only eighteen percent in total instead of thirty four. That means the supermajority amendment is still in effect…Jack?"_

"Still here, Nick."

 _"It means your other plan still has life,"_  he began, but then his metallic voice took on a grim, serious tone,  _"but I would advise you to move quickly. I do not wish to own this stock for long."_

"Okay. I'll get the offshore companies set up today. Nick?"

_"Yes, my boy?"_

"Thank you."

_"Think nothing of it. Consider it a Christmas gift from me to Elsa. Anyway, I must go. I want to finish early so I can help Thiana with the party preparations."_

The worry and the fear in Elsa's chest suddenly burned away with fierce warmth and appreciation for the big, intimidating CEO. She mumbled a weak  _'thank you'_ , but Nick had already ended the call.

"That means…" she began, but Jack finished.

"Nick just bought us some time." he said, a little more curtly than he would have liked.

"What do we do?" Kai asked, but then checked himself as he forgot that the paperwork was already in effect. Kai was only a temporary steward now; in a week Elsa would be CEO.

"I need another ten percent, that way I can still do what I was originally going to do. Stick them in the offshore companies to buy us even more time while I work on my other idea."

"Which is?" Elsa asked. Jack finally shifted his gaze to her curious, hopeful pools, debating whether to answer, or  _how_.

"I'm not sure I can say." he sighed, moving his eyes back to the phone and running his fingers through his messy snow-white hair.

"Please, I want to know." she pressed, rising to her feet and moving towards him.

"It doesn't matter right now," Kai interjected, causing both Jack and Elsa to look at him, "one thing at a time. For the moment, you need to convince one of our…your shareholders to sell their stock to Jack. That's your first port of call. Worrying about anything  _after_  that is pointless."

Elsa studied him for a moment, opening her mouth to protest, but the look of relief on Jack's face along with the  _'You know I'm right'_  expression on Kai's told her to leave it for the moment. She made a mental note to ask her boyfriend about it later – provided he wasn't too pissed off.

Jack nodded, mouthed a silent  _'thank you'_  to the ex-CEO and picked up his phone to check the time.

"What time does the stock market close today?" he asked.

"One o'clock. That means we've got…" Elsa quickly checked her watch, and noted that it was now half past seven, "…five and a half hours to pull a win out of this."

Jack pondered the inappropriateness of his initial urge to cheer  _"Autobots, roll out!"_

* * *

 

Pritchard gingerly touched his healing nose once more, wincing as a dull pain spread through his face.

His father hadn't said a word to him during the journey to the private airport in the limousine, three hours from Arendelle City. For this, Pritchard was secretly thankful. Richard's last reaction was one thing; it was a sobering thought that crossed his mind should he find out about Anna's retribution.

He checked his cell phone once more, hissing to himself when he saw the signal icon indicate that he was well out of any tower's range. He was itching to hear about any information that Hans had managed to dredge up about this mysterious Jack, and wondered why he hadn't seen him around the city at all. Anything that he could remember about the fight was blurry and unreliable due to the sheer pummelling his face took, but he could  _swear_  he saw white hair.

The other thought that crossed his mind was his father's arrogance. Acquiring such a company as Fractal Fashion, he thought that Richard would not want to stay too far away to make sure that it went off without a hitch. Having said that, all the other acquisitions prior to this had gone swimmingly and Richard always had a sort of blasé attitude to them, so this one should be no different.

"Why are you flying to…wherever it is you're going, father?" he asked quietly, keeping his gaze firmly fixed out of the window to watch the world shoot by. He could still see his father's exasperated reflection, however.

"I told you, boy. Black Advertising has grown far beyond what these American borders can allow, so I am taking the company worldwide. I am going to Great Britain to browse some of the larger businesses there. I hear DunBroch Distillery has a wide following."

Pritchard didn't answer, nor did he even speak a word for an hour until the limousine pulled up just shy of his father's private jet which, naturally, was painted black and had a white outline of a slender horse on the tailfin.

"What if something goes wrong with the acquisition?" he asked, more concerned with the company's heir than Fractal Fashion itself.

"Pray that nothing does. I am leaving the details to you and our shareholders.  _Do not fail me_." Richard answered threateningly, before sliding out of the limousine and slamming the door. His son watched him ascend the stairs into the jet, barely acknowledging the flight staff.

"To my apartment, please." Pritchard spoke, the driver intercom light blinking. Silently obeying, the chauffeur drove a wide circle and left the airfield in the exact same direction they had arrived from.

Pritchard relaxed back into the chair with a smile on his face, pouring a glass of vodka that he had retrieved from the drinks cabinet in front of him. If everything went to plan, Fractal Fashion would be part of the Black empire, and though most if not  _all_  of the original employees would be fired, Richard had promised to keep Elsa Snowfield as puppet-CEO of the company.

Hans had always made his incomprehension clear of the obsession that Pritchard possessed towards this woman. Had the Black heir been someone who possessed empathy, he might have understood why his red-haired friend thought it was unhealthy.

Pritchard was a man who was used to getting what he wanted, through power or subtle manipulation. It was his way of acting out, in a sense, to cope with the severely dysfunctional family he had the bad luck to be born into. If he couldn't charm, he would bribe. If he couldn't bribe, he would threaten. If he couldn't do that, then he would  _take_. Possessions, money…people, it didn't matter. Everything was his in the end.

Except Elsa Snowfield.

He saw her in Arendelle College when they were both eighteen, and from then he had become – as he would describe it – enamoured with her. Everyone else's definition of his attitude was different and yet the same –  _fixated_. He could not charm her as she had made it repeatedly clear that he sickened her to the stomach. He couldn't bribe her, as he had nothing that she wanted, other than to leave her alone. He could not threaten her, as the last time he did, she gave him one hell of a black eye and caused him to be suspended from college for six months.

That only left the option to take her.

Unfortunately his own father had put a stop – at least temporarily – to that, as she happened to be the heir of the company that he had decided to acquire. Richard had made it clear that he was to do  _nothing_  to impede that acquisition, a threat reinforced by the bruises that were still healing on his almost ghostly white neck.

Still, Pritchard could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fractal Fashion's time was running out.

And time was something that the Black heir had plenty of.

* * *

 

Hans didn't know where to start, or even if he could be bothered.

His brothers had sent over a folder of any Jacks that live, have lived or visited Arendelle City in the past few years – and there was over two hundred of them. The folder was so thick; he had actually used it as a step to reach the rum on the top of his bookcase in his apartment.

He had gotten to about Jack Number Twenty Five when his brain had melted trying to tally them with any connection to the Snowfield sisters, and so far, zilch. Nada. Zip.

"Diddly-fucking-squat." he had muttered to himself as he massaged his temples with such vigour his sideburns moved up and down a little.

Flopping back onto the dark red leather armchair, he sipped from his glass of rum and meditated on everything that had happened so far. His 'friend' and the obsessions that came with him were beginning to get out of control. First it was Elsa. Then it was vengeance upon her little sister Anna, over a little insult.

 _Really? Pritchard_ hated  _his mother. He tried to assault Anna over simply being shown up in front of Elsa._

And now, his lust for vengeance was now directed at this person, who was hidden among two hundred plus change of his similarly named friends. And as usual,  _he_  had to do the dirty work. He had to photograph Kai Snowfield in the car. It was him that photographed the sisters in Starbucks.

It made him feel sick to remember that he was the one who took the photograph of the dead woman.

The dreams were becoming more and more vivid now, the feeling of drowning and the waking up at an ungodly hour becoming more and more frequent. The sensation of edging further and further from reality gaining strength.

But, whenever he thought of getting out, he remembered how much of a coward he was.

So, he drained the remainder of the rum, leaned forward and flicked through the driving licences, seeing if there was anyone he could recognise. And when his eyes fell upon an indifferent looking man, with shocking blue eyes and a head full of white hair, his stomach did a somersault and he raised a hand to his mouth in shock.

Reacting quickly, he pulled out the sheet of paper and rose from his chair, slid it inside his  _Insurance_  folder, and upon lifting up a secret panel and entering a code into a safe that was built into the floor, stuffed that folder into the safe, closed the dense hatch and replaced the panel.

_Shit._

* * *

 

It had cost a  _lot_  of money, but with the speed that Jack was able to set up the six shell companies, each with completely random names of their CEOs, every dollar was worth it.

Having been in conversation with his father's broker Manny for some time, mainly Jack trying to dodge questions about his life since the accident, everything was ready. Nick had already put the sixteen percent up on the market which was snapped up by Manny within seconds, and transferred to the  _Sucks To Be You Drinking Straws Company._ Sixteen percent. Not enough to prevent a takeover, but enough to make sure that the supermajority amendment was still in effect.

Pacing around his apartment with one arm across his chest and the other vertically supporting his chin, he waited for the message from Elsa stating that this Mr J. Bennett was ready to put  _his_  stake onto the market, so Manny could snap  _that_  up too on behalf of the first fake company. Only then would Black be stymied enough for Jack to work out the next phase of the plan.

Twelve fifteen. Forty-five minutes until the market closed.

Elsa was cutting it close.

"Any news from your friend, yet?" came Manny's smooth, almost serene voice from the speaker on his phone, surprisingly audible over the background chaos of the Stock Exchange.

"Nope. Still waiting." Jack replied, walking from the kitchen to the edge of his sofa for something like the fifteenth time.

Elsa had insisted upon meeting this Bennett person herself. Kai had indicated that he would be the most willing to ignore the blackmail and help, but he was still wary of crossing Black. Elsa felt that, as the CEO to be, she should be there to put a human face to the offer and to strengthen his confidence in the plan. If that failed, she was then in a position to point out that when the news of Kai's 'transgressions' leaked to the papers, his share value would drop dramatically. If he was going to sell, he should sell  _now_.

The problem was that Bennett lived over an hour away from Arendelle City, and with less than an hour to go until the stock market closed; the window of opportunity was narrowing with each passing second. Jack felt his impatience and his stress levels rising.

Twelve thirty.

_Time's running out, Elsa._

His eyes fell upon the empty carton of cigarettes in the kitchen trash bin as he revolved in the living room, and he felt his nicotine cravings begin to spike, intensifying his stress. Reaching into his hooded sweater pocket, he fished out another mint and slipped it into his mouth, taking great care to avoid any and all taste buds on its way in. They were  _that_  foul.

He was on his way toward the kitchen when his phone vibrated on the breakfast bar, almost stopping his heart and his breath with the startling sound. Rushing forward, he hastily opened the message and read the contents.

_"He's calling his broker right now. – Elsa x"_

Jack's heart swelled and he cultivated a little hope inside his chest. First part down, but the hardest part was to go.

Being faster any of Black's mooks that might also be watching the stock exchange.

"Manny, heads up. Elsa says that this Bennett guy is talking to his broker."

 _"I'm waiting."_ Manny replied, his smooth tones now sounding serious and determined.

Jack was very conscious of how rapid his breathing was, and the  _thum-thum_ in his ears. He was glad Elsa wasn't in the apartment right now, because even his hands were slightly shaking with anticipation.

_"I see it."_

Jack waited the agonising few seconds, hearing the hustle and bustle of the Stock Exchange in the background as Manny barked a few words that he couldn't quite make out. The  _thum-thum_  in his ears became just that little bit more rapid, and his stomach clenched.

All the plans, everything that Elsa had worked toward rested upon the next few minutes.

"Manny?"

_"Give me a second, will ya?"_

Jack's face was so close to his screen that he was practically eating the plastic device.

_"Got it. All ten percent."_

Jack let loose an exhalation of breath, which given the proximity of the speakers to his mouth probably sounded to Manny like a roar of wind. Closing his eyes, he felt the anticipation and the fear just wash away with relief.

They had done it.

"Thanks, Manny. Seriously."

_"No problem. Give my regards to your godparents, will ya?"_

"Will do. Take care."

Jack ended the call and numbly walked over to his sofa, collapsing onto it as the stress left his body. He was barely aware of the whirring in his hand as another message arrived.

_"Did it work? Do you have the shares? – Elsa x"_

Jack felt the biggest smile split his face as he typed out the reply, relieved to send the good news.

_"Yeah. 'Sucks to Be You Drinking Straws' now own twenty six percent of your company. – Jack x"_

* * *

 

Elsa had stayed a little while longer at J. Bennett's house with the intention to avoid appearing impolite, but her constant glances to the front door, restless movements and clipped speech had annoyed even the ex-shareholder. Fairly soon, it had gotten to the point where he had thanked her for her visit, wished her the best of luck with the company and held the door open for her, wearing an expression of  _'Are you gonna go then, or what?'_

Elsa's words as she darted out of the house had blended into  _'You'rewelcomethankyouseeyouwhenit'sallover!"_

Within half an hour, she was on the return journey to Arendelle City, nudging the speed limit in her Cadillac. She just wanted to get back as soon as she possibly could, to wrap her arms around her boyfriend, nuzzle her face into his neck and kiss as much of his skin as she possibly could. To feel his own arms embrace her body and hold her close to him. The very thought ignited a burning flame in her chest and she smiled, recalling the non-stop events of that morning.

The sombre, grim call from her uncle, asking her to meet him in his office as soon as possible. The news that Black had managed to acquire enough to render the amendment meaningless. The threats and the blackmail.

How Nicholas St North had managed to throw them a surprise lifeline out of his own pocket, and with that lifeline, she and Jack worked flawlessly as a team and snatched a victory from the jaws of defeat.

It was only a temporary victory and a  _lot_  of problems still remained for them to overcome, but she would take it as a win for now.

But then her thoughts fell upon the picture of the woman, whose only crime was to be somehow related to the Southernisle partnership, however tangentially. It was a senseless death; there was no meaning to it. If she had known that her last act on this earth would be to entrap a good man, would she have done it? And to make matters worse, that she would be made to look like someone else, and wouldn't even have the right to die as herself? Elsa felt her stomach clench as her vibrant mood was tempered with sadness…and resolve.

With fierce determination, Elsa made an unspoken promise, to the woman and to her family if she had any that her death would have meaning, and she would not be a forgotten casualty. That the crime would  _not_  be swept under the rug.

Then she began to think of the company, and of her father. Over the past two weeks, the feeling that she didn't want to be the CEO just yet had grown stronger and stronger, intensified by how much she enjoyed being with Jack. Last night, she had made the decision to defer the  _'_ coronation' for a couple of years…and in a bitter twist of fate, the universe made the decision for her this very morning.

She knew for a fact that on the day she takes over, she would have to try and balance her college studies with her new role as CEO, and that leading the company would come at the cost of dramatically dominating the time she had to spend with her boyfriend. Like Elsa, Jack was well aware of the relationship problems that being a CEO can cause. She hoped that, even though they had only been together a short time, they could find a way to still be with each other.

It was in that moment, Elsa realised that she loved him…

…and she hoped that he felt the same way.


	25. Fire, Fear, Frost and Snow

In honour of the epic financial middle finger to Black Advertising, Jack opened a fresh bottle of whisky and poured a small amount into two glasses that were resting on the kitchen counter.

In respect toward the new role Elsa was about to take in the leadership of Fractal Fashion, he downed one of the drinks.

In remembrance of the woman in the photograph, he poured the other one on the floor.

He knew that the gesture to  _'pour one out'_  was to symbolise and remember the passing of an old drinking buddy, and though he was unaware this woman had even existed before Friday, he felt it was the right thing to do.

Taking care not to slip on the small patch of whisky on the floor, he unlocked the front door for Elsa as he returned to the sofa and pulled his laptop from under it, deciding to check the local news. Southernisle ought to have released the photographs to the media soon after realising that the plans of their partners had been scuppered, and he wanted to check just how much coverage the story was going to have. To his surprise, there was nothing. Not even on the small, incendiary blogs that usually whipped up conspiracy theories about CEOs and lizard people. Of those, his particular favourite was that the CEO of Black Advertising was a malicious alien from outer space, but that was because he happened to agree.

It was surprising because, historically, Southernisle were quick off the mark when it came to releasing evidence. Oust the CEO, release the damning pictures or fabricated emails to alienate the potential investors and therefore drive share prices down, and then buy the company for a cheaper price. That was the method and Southernisle's role in the acquisition process.

_So what changed? Why is this particular acquisition different?_

Jack checked himself for thinking too much about it, as he poured himself another finger of whisky. He should be pleased. Kai gets to enjoy the Christmas season without being hounded by the vultures of the sensationalist press, and Fractal Fashion can maintain their high share value for the time being. It was a boon in an otherwise dark time.

Having automatically activated upon the laptop's start-up, the Skype icon flashed with a notification that someone was trying to video call him. Frowning, he clicked the little sign and raised his eyebrows.

Merida DunBroch.

They hadn't spoken in  _years_ , not since the end of high school. He felt a little trepidation and excitement, after all she was one of his friends if not his  _best_  friend when he was younger. What would she look like? How would she sound? Would she understand the reason for him going dark for three years since graduation? Before he clicked the  _Answer_  icon, he switched on his television and wirelessly connected his laptop to it, and before long the Skype interface was waiting for orders upon the larger screen. Taking a deep breath, he clicked the button, and felt a grin instantly appear.

Merida's vivid red hair took up almost all of the edges of the screen, and her light blue eyes shone wide with recognition and surprise when they locked on to him. Jack always thought she was a stunning girl in high school, and since then she had flourished into a striking young woman. Part of him hoped she still retained the fiery temper and hot-headedness that garnered her a reputation in the school.

"Oh my  _God!_  Jack Overland! Ye've actually bloody answered!" she gasped, a smile creeping up.

"Hey, Mer. It's been a while." Jack replied, trying to appear cool and suave.

"Too bloody right it has, ye li'l bastard! Three years, man! How've ye been?" she asked, her strong Scottish accent brimming with positivity and more than a little reproach.

"I've been…okay. Past few weeks have been pretty good. How about you? Last time we saw each other, I had to stop you from knocking MacIntosh's teeth out at the graduation!"

"Ye know 'e deserved it. Lanky prick. Anyway, how's the family? How's yer wee sister Sophie? Ach, she was a firecracker. I miss 'er."

Jack felt a sting in his chest. Merida didn't know about the accident. After he had cut himself off, it included her. He wasn't thinking straight at the time, but in hindsight it was wrong of him to have not at least  _emailed_  his best friend after she had moved back to Scotland. There was also a little surprise in there along with the guilt: given Nick's friendship with Merida's father, why had he not informed them? He made a mental note to ask Nick tomorrow.

"Jack, are ye a'right lad?" the flame-haired woman asked, her bright features creasing into a frown.

"Yeah...I'm..." he sighed, then decided to face the music rather than lie, "my mom, dad and sister died, Mer."

Merida's frown fell to crestfallen, and she looked at Jack with pitying eyes.

"Och, yer kiddin'. When?"

"Three years ago, Mer. I'm really sorry, I should have told you. I just…couldn't handle it."

Merida's face stung with a little hurt.

"Ye shoulda called, Jack. I'da come to tha funeral." she said in a half-reprimanding, half-consoling voice.

"I know, Mer. I'm sorry."

Merida regarded him quietly for a moment, debating whether to berate him or hug him. Considering she was on the other side of the Atlantic, she settled for resuming the conversation. Given that this was the first time in a long time she had been able to speak to her best friend, she wasn't going to pass up the chance.

"So, tell me what ye've been up ta, Jacky boy."

"Erm, I'm in college, majoring in Business. Nick's got me pegged to take over the Pole, so I'm kinda studying toward that."

"Hey, tha's great, Jack. Me mammy's got me studyin' t'wards takin' over tha Distillery. A'd rather be doin' ma own thing, but what can ye do?"

_"Enunciate!"_  Jack heard the authoritative tones of Elinor DunBroch in the background. He chuckled when he saw Merida roll her eyes exasperatedly and groan in response.

"Ay, mammy! Anyway, ma best friend owes me a catch up!"

Jack grinned, and recounted the last few weeks. Merida's eyes narrowed and widened, her mouth occasionally let loose a whispered  _och_  and when Jack mentioned that he had a girlfriend, she pursed her lips with a smile, and her expression screamed  _'You dog!'._

"So, Jacky-boy. Tell me 'bout 'er. I wanna know all 'bout the lassie that stole tha heart o' tha Burgess Heartbreaker!"

Jack laughed. He hadn't been called that in a  _long_ time.

"Well, she's beautiful, intelligent, got these blue eyes that you can lose yourself in. She's quick as well. Real quick. Awesome blonde hair, and she has it in a braid over her shoulder."

"Och, man. Ye sound like yer head o'er heels. Ye bloody pansy." she snickered, raising her hands to try and tame the wild hair that threatened to cover her face should she move the slightest millimetre. It failed.

"Shut up Mer," he rolled his eyes as he chuckled, "you're just jealous 'cause you can't get a guy."

"And what need have I of a man?" Merida tried to retort with a posh English accent, her Scottish tones betraying her, "all tha men a've seen turned out ta be right pricks. In fact, tha only guy a've not punched is you."

"You  _did_  punch me." Jack corrected, smirking knowingly.

"When? I dinnae remember  _that!_ "

"What?! It's how we became friends!"

Merida's eyes narrowed and she looked off-screen as she searched her memories, then with a grin of realisation she found the recollection she was looking for.

"I remember! Ye tried ta stop me hittin' yer friend!" she enthused.

"Well he was being an ass, but I thought if I didn't try and help you'd've probably killed him." Jack tried to speak in between laughs, recalling the fateful day and the start of a beautiful friendship. Sounds of mirth echoed around the room from him and Merida alike, and it felt like the good old days had returned.

"Hey, ye remember when yer mammy thought we were datin'?" Merida asked, giggling like mad. Jack snorted into laughter once more, remembering their faces.

"Oh, how could I forget? She'd gone and paid for us to go for a meal, didn't she?"

"Ay, an' a very nice meal it was too! We came back an' she was like  _'So, did ye two kiss or what?'"_  Merida sniggered, her eyes full of nostalgia and warmth.

"Yeah! I was like  _"Mooooooom!_   _We're just friends!"_. Your face was a picture. Seriously, I had never seen you look mortified until that night."

"'Course I was bloody mortified! Thinkin' I was gonna snog ma bestie?! Yer handsome an' all, Jack, but ye ain't ma type."

"Feeling's mutual, Mer. Besides, even if we  _did_  feel that way, you were going back to Scotland after the graduation. There's long distance, and there's  _that_ …and what  _is_  your type, anyway?"

"I dinnae bloody know! I'll tell ye if I ever find 'im," she shrugged, then her eyes briefly flicked to the right with an eyebrow raised, "by the way, Jacky boy, this lass ye were tellin' me 'bout…"

"Ay…I mean yeah? What about her?" Jack slipped. It had taken him weeks to get rid of the Scottish accent after Merida had returned home.

"Is she the cute wee lass stood behind ye?"

Jack whirled to his left, and his brows rose in surprise as a smile crept up on his face. Merida was right. Elsa was leaning on the doorframe with an amused smirk on her face, her arms folded as she listened to the conversation.

"Hey, Els. How long have you been there?

"Since Burgess Heartbreaker." she teased, winking. Jack flushed an embarrassed red and shyly looked away. He shuffled to the side and patted the seat for Elsa, which she took after closing the door behind her. She sat as close him as she possibly could, their upper arms and legs touching each other.

"Elsa Snowfield, this is Merida Dunbroch. We were best friends in Burgess High. Merida, this is Elsa. I'm her boyfriend."

Elsa tried to suppress the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl for two reasons: one, hearing Jack refer to himself as her boyfriend never seemed to make her feel childish and special, and the other was the amused, knowing look sported by the flame-haired woman on Jack's television screen.

"Jack, ye need ta brush up on yer English, 'cause yer description of Elsa didnae do her justice. Hi, nice ta meet ye!"

"Pleasure's all mine, Miss DunBroch. By the way, I  _love_  your hair. Styled?" Elsa asked, gushing slightly at the sight of Merida's completely disobedient red curls.

"Och, call me Merida. And no, ma hair is like this all tha time. Bloody nuisance. Cannae have a ponytail if ma life depended on it! Anyway, what do ye do?"

"Oh, I'm…I own Fractal Fashion." Elsa answered, about to say  _'I'm the heir to-'_ not  _'I'm the CEO of-'_

Merida's eyes went wide with realisation and she gasped loudly. Jack and Elsa looked quizzically at each other while Merida dived off-screen, muttering something in an obscure Scottish accent as she rifled through something they couldn't see. A few minutes later, her buoyant red curls reappeared on the video as she proudly held up a long vivid scoop neck green dress. It tapered off at the hands with a little loop for the middle finger, was well fitting from the shoulders down past the hips where it flared out into ripples near the feet. The chest fabric sported a design that was clearly based on ancient Celtic patterns, with the representation of a horse sewn onto it in a darker green fabric.

"A've got one o' yer dresses! It's ma favourite, I always use it fer social stuff. Ne'er comes out unless it's somethin' important!" Merida gushed, and Elsa couldn't help but grin proudly. Noticing Jack's puzzled expression, she clarified.

"A couple of years ago, Kai became interested in Celtic legend and art, so we designed and released a line of clothing called  _Bravery_. That particular dress was our best seller, in fact. It must have cost you a lot of money to get it over to…"

"Scotland, lass," Merida finished for her, "and that didnae matter. I  _love_  this dress. Worth every penny."

She quickly darted off-screen once more, and Jack glanced at Elsa's proud features. Being able to make someone on the other side of the Atlantic happy with one of her items meant a lot to her. He slid his fingers over to hers, and she wrapped her hand around his, squeezing as she gazed warmly into his eyes. Seeing the red hair begin to fill the screen once more, Jack turned his eyes back to the screen, whilst Elsa's lingered on his face for a little longer.

"Right, I hear ma brothers comin' so a'd better make this quick. I jus' wanted ta wish ye a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, and ta tell ye that a'm coming over ta the US in a couple o' weeks!" she grinned, excitement radiating from her eyes. Jack's jaw dropped.

"Och, yer kiddin'…ah shit." Jack gasped, then realised how easy it was to be influenced by Merida's speech. He  _really_  needed to work on that, especially when it caused the girls to both burst into laughter.

"Oh Jack, ye make me laugh. An' I'm not kiddin' lad. Mammy's lookin' at branchin' out over yer neck o' the woods, so we're comin' over ta see if it's viable or not. Where are ye livin' now?"

"Arendelle City."

"Grand! Ah crap, here they come. Talk te ye soon Jack…get off me ye wee bears! Nice ta meet ye, Elsa! No, Hamish, no no! Don't touch tha-"

And then the call ended, the last image before the screen went black of a bright, mischievous red-haired boy pulling a face as he sat on a rather annoyed Merida's lap. Elsa covered her mouth as she let the giggles come freely.

"Your friend is certainly spirited!" she sniggered. Jack gave her a look that screamed  _'You have no idea.'_

"Believe it or not, she seems to have mellowed out. Anyway, what brings you to my humble abode?"

"This." she answered succinctly, and with no further words she laced her fingers around the back of Jack's head and pulled his lips toward hers. It had only been two days, but, oh, had he missed the soft touch of her smooth mouth against his, how their tongues occasionally darted in and out of each other's mouths. How her body felt against his hand, and how his skin burned with her gentlest touch.

Every kiss always felt like their first.

She leaned away from him, smiling into his eyes with a twinkle in her own. Moving her hands to either side of his head, she stroked his cheekbones with her thumbs.

"Just wanted to say thank you for this morning." she spoke in her elegant, smooth tones. Jack shrugged noncommittally.

"Technically, you should thank Nick. I couldn't have done anything if he hadn't beaten Black to the punch."

"Yeah, well, I'm thanking  _you._  Without you and Nick, I'd be leading a dying company."

"Well, if our roles were reversed, you'd've done the same. Anyway, Christmas is the time of  _miracles._ " Jack answered. Elsa frowned for a second, but then her face twisted into a grimace when she understood Jack's meaning.

"Oh, I said that, didn't I…" she murmured, biting her lip as one eye narrowed.

"Yep."

"That's the third time I've taken my stress out on you…" she winced, and the stroking becoming a little more needing.

"I can take it. I'm a big boy." Jack smirked, his eyebrows shooting up and down, turning Elsa's wince a coy giggle. Sighing, he raised his fingers and took her hands in his own, holding them against his chest.

"Look, I've got no idea what it's like to be you. It's different when it's your own company, especially after what you told me on Friday, and that…photograph…what I'm trying to say is, I get why you were stressed, and I would have probably reacted the way you did. So don't worry about it."

"How do you want me to make it up to you?" she smiled, squeezing his fingers as she felt his heart thunder in his chest.

"I have a few ideas," he winked, a twinkle in his eyes, "but for now, I'll have another one of those kisses."

"Deal." she giggled, but her face fell into something that almost resembled worry. Like there was something inside her trying to get out, and she was concerned about what would happen if it did. She looked away, and stared at an invisible point on the floor.

"You okay, Elsa?" Jack frowned, moving his head so it was within Elsa's sight, grounding her back to reality.

"Yeah…I…" she murmured as her gaze snapped back to his. Shifting her legs together so they were crossed, she pulled Jack's hands away from his chest and rubbed circles into his knuckles, trying to find the words.

"It's okay, you can tell me."

_I love you, Jack._

"I…" she began, her mouth opening and closing but try as she might, the words just wouldn't come. She was scared.

Scared of his reaction, whether he would run for the hills and leave her in tears. Scared that he would shrug it off, as though her love was  _nothing_. She had never opened herself up to someone  _this_  much before. In an ironic way, the same issues that Jack was dealing with, she was as well. She was prepared to and happy to date someone, but to take the leap and give her heart to them?

"I…need the bathroom…" she finally spoke, inwardly kicking herself that it was the best thing she could come up with. Jack narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"You…need the bathroom…"

"Yeah, long drive…didn't have a break!" she nervously muttered, trying to appear shy. Jack regarded her with a studious expression. There was definitely something she was trying to say, and it was something important. He gazed at her for a few seconds, before deciding that he shouldn't push it. He would be there when she was ready, just like she was for him.

* * *

 

It is said that your life flashes before your eyes when you die. It was certainly true for Pritchard, upon receiving the message from his father's stockbrokers. He collapsed into his chair, his memories taking him back to when he was sixteen.

_("He hit you again, didn't he?"_

_"Shut up, Hans." I reply. It's fairly obvious that my father does hit me. That is, when he is actually home. It's even worse if something went wrong with the company. It's not enough to fire the imbecile in question, but I bear the brunt of my father's hostility. And at sixteen years of age, I'm used to it. There was a time when I would cower. When I would hide in the closet and pray he didn't find me. He always did. Now, I stand there and take it._

_"Why do you let him? Why won't your mother stop him?" he persists, eyeing the Beretta in my hand, as I stand in my front garden._

_He doesn't understand. He never will. He still craves the love of his parents, when after twelve elder children they have none left to give – if they had any in the beginning, of course. I used to crave the love of mine, once upon a time. I used to hope that one day my father would smile at me. That he would pat my head instead of bruise it. I'm past that, now. I understand the truth._

_My mother does nothing. I'm not even sure that she cares. Father walks in, full of the heat of rage, storms upstairs to my room. I know she can hear the sounds. I know she heard the screams, the pleas to stop…when I used to plead, that is. She still fucked him every night. Maybe it was out of fear. Maybe it was a twisted form of love. It doesn't matter now._

_I understand the truth of all things. I understand that love is a misguided concept, something that hopeless romantics and idiotic morons seek. It is a weakness. It clouds the mind and skews the senses. It is insipid._

_Love is for fools, but power? That is for kings._

_"It doesn't matter." I answer him._

_"Yes, Pritchard, it does!" he presses, thinking he knows everything, "Parents don't use their children as punch-bags! They-"_

_I interrupt._

_"If the next words out of that trash can you call a mouth are 'love their children', I will shove this pistol so far down your throat your tongue will reach the chambered bullet. You know NOTHING. Your mother never loved you. You don't even know what the word means, so spare me your moral words. I am tired of love. It is meaningless."_

_He is silenced, but I am not._

_"You come home from school every day, and some of your brothers don't even acknowledge your existence. Your parents barely give you the time of day. You know nothing of love, and neither do I. The difference being, Hans, I have accepted the truth of the matter and that is where there is no love it is useless to seek it."_

_"You're…scared of him, aren't you?" he asks. Clearly my threat went unnoticed._

_Maybe I am, in a way. The thing is, being the heir to the largest conglomerate in the US; I don't have the luxury to be scared. I get money, anything I could want, and if I feel the need to, can commit any crime I want and know that my father will bail me out. Naturally, he will beat me for my 'stupidity', but it's worth it._

_Like now, where I have a pistol pointed at someone's dog that has wandered onto the front garden of the family mansion, and defecated next to the fuchsias. I have made it repeatedly clear to their owners, that any further instances of this will not be tolerated. The same owners that are currently running up the driveway, screaming at me to stop. Hah! As though they have power over me._

_"No, Hans…"_

_I point the pistol at the dog's head, a cold expression on my face._

_"…I'm surviving him."_

_I pull the trigger.)_

His mind raced, and for the first time in many years, a cold sweat of fear sat on his brow, as he re-read the message on his tablet.

_To: R. Black/P. Black_  
Subject: Problem at the Exchange  
06:15

_Sirs, the other brokers and I have been trying to reach you for orders and guidance. The shares appeared on the Exchange as predicted, but an unknown party has acquired over half of them, leaving us with only ten percent._

_We have been unable to reach you for instructions._

_Please advise._

_To: R. Black/P. Black_  
Subject: Further Problems  
11:00

_Sirs, the remaining 16% of the shares were re-sold on the Exchange today, and were bought by another company. We have no instructions and thus were unable to proceed._

_Please advise._

_To: R. Black/P. Black_  
Subject: Instructions  
12.40

_Sirs, we have spotted one of Fractal Fashion's shareholders sell their stock to an unknown party, we believe it to be the same company that bought the stock an hour and forty minutes ago. We believe they now own 26% of the target company's stock._

_We have been unable to proceed without further instructions._

_Please advise._

"Idiots." Pritchard repeated the same insult he had uttered the first time he read the emails. He cursed the lack of signal towers between Arendelle City and the airfield. Had they been able to get in contact, they could have done  _something_  to prevent this unknown  _white squire_  from ruining their plans.

He knew  _why_  the company stockbrokers were utterly useless in this situation – his father. The propensity of Richard Black to dominate anything to do with the company had backfired; in the early days of the company nothing happened without his say so, and that cultivated a sense of fear within the employees and the stockbrokers. They weren't able to do anything at the Exchange, precisely because they didn't know what Richard  _wanted_  them to do. They couldn't move without his say so.

Prior to this instance, it hadn't really been a problem. Target holders would sell their shares; Black's brokers would buy them. Simple as that. Over time, this feeling of regularity had grown into complacency, believing that the acquisition of Fractal Fashion's stock would go as swimmingly as it did for every company before them.

Pritchard cursed the stockbrokers for their fear, and lack of initiative. Fear was a powerful motivator, but if something goes wrong, it can render you unable to act. Rather than being the stalking panthers that they believed themselves to be, they had become the metaphorical deer-in-the-headlights.

They were so used to  _summer soldiers_  that they hadn't expected someone to actually  _fight back._

His mind went to his father, and Pritchard thanked his luck that the CEO was probably on his way over the Atlantic by now. If he were to find out, he would turn that jet right around. The heir knew what would happen next, which was why his life flashed before his eyes. His father would most likely kill him.

Therefore, he will not find out, Pritchard had decided.

_I will deal with this mess._

_I will make them pay._

The bad news didn't stop there, however. His phone vibrated with an incoming message, and upon pulling it out of his expensive, pinstriped black suit, he noticed that the message was from Hans. Maybe  _he_  had something good to share.

_New Message (1) From: Hans_

_went thru the jacks that live in arendelle. Sorry, cant find the one ur lookin for._

Pritchard threw his phone at the wall with enough force to watch it shatter into several pieces, the satisfaction of the act buried under the sheer fury that preceded it.

His day keeps getting better and better.

* * *

 

It took  _ages_ , but Jack finally finished tuning the acoustic guitar that he had left un-played for so long, having fished it out from under his bed when he hid the jewellery box.

The standard  _EADGBE_ format that he always used had fallen to something far removed from that, to the point that when he strummed its strings for what felt like the first time, he winced.

_Ouch._

While he sat on the sofa, cranked the machine heads and occasionally plucked each string hearing the notes gradually increase in pitch, his mind sorted through the last half hour. Jack knew Elsa was lying about needing the bathroom – well, probably half lying, nature does call – but when he went to check on her he could swear he heard the lightest of sniffs. He had asked her if she was okay, and she just responded with an  _'I'm fine, Jack. It's just been a big day!'_.

He knew what it was like to want to say something, but find the words jumble in the throat. So he didn't push it.

What pushed  _him_  however, was the sudden growling of his stomach…and then he realised – he hadn't eaten since he woke up. From the moment he dived out of the door up to now, he had been so swept up that he had forgotten to have the most important meal of the day – and it was after one in the afternoon.

Resting a soothing hand upon the feral rumbling in his abdomen, he rested the guitar against his sofa and strode to the kitchen. Flicking the coffee machine on, he opened the refrigerator door and adopted the stance most people do – bend over slightly and stare vacantly into nothingness, hoping for an epiphany to strike. His eyes fell upon some eggs sat on a rack in the inside of the door.

_Scrambled eggs. Quick and easy. Perfect._

Retrieving a few of them, he closed the door…

"BOO!"

…and jumped out of his skin.

"JEEZ!" he yelped.

Elsa burst into laughter, her face alight with mirth as she doubled over, clutching her stomach. She half-heartedly pointed a teasing finger at him, trying desperately to speak.

"Oh God…your face…it's a picture!"

Jack narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips. Gently laying the miraculously unbroken eggs on the kitchen counter, he knew what to do. He was going to make her  _pay_.

Elsa looked up just in time to see Jack bend over and wrap his arms around her lower legs, and squealed as he bodily lifted her over his shoulder wearing one hell of a smirk. She continued to squeal as, through fits of laughter, she tried to slap his butt and yell at him to put her down.

"Don't start something you can't win, Snowfield." he grinned mischievously, carrying her into the bedroom and almost throwing her on the bed. Her  _'punishment'_ wasn't over yet. As her eyes locked upon his with mirthful yet ever so slightly scared eyes, he raised his hands and mimicked a spider with each one.

"Oh no…"

"Oh yes."

"Please, no!" she giggled, but he wouldn't have any of it. The 'spiders' darted forward, seeking out the sensitive spots on her body and tickling them with relentless abandon. She convulsed and screamed with laughter, trying desperately to get away from the invading hands as she shuffled up the bed. Not one to let her get away, Jack knelt astride her and continued to attack, every manic giggle like fuel for his hands.

Her legs began to thrash uncontrollably, and starkly aware of the position of something  _very_  sensitive above her legs, he lifted his left knee up with the intention of kneeling beside her and continuing the assault.

However, in a brief moment of non-convulsive clarity, Elsa had other ideas. Taking advantage of the momentary pause while Jack adjusted his position, she pushed him onto his back and sat astride him, grabbing his wrists and pinning them against the bed. Taken completely off guard, Jack could only stare in surprise at the whiplash change in domination. They both panted for breath as they drowned in each other's pools, Jack unwilling to even attempt resisting the grip she held upon his arms.

"Hey, why are  _you_  always on top?" he muttered, Elsa letting loose a coy snigger at his words.

"I like being in control." she smirked, winking. Jack narrowed his eyes, and Elsa caught a twinkle in them that she  _should_  have predicted, because with a grunt, he pushed up as hard as he could with his arms. Elsa's eyes went wide with surprise, and she squealed when he followed up the ambush by changing the position. He was on top once more, pinning  _her_  arms to the bed.

"Now who's in control?" he smirked, amused to find little to no resistance under his hands. Far from it. Elsa's lips were parted as she fought for every breath, feeling her heart thunder like war drums in her chest. She hoped he was going to do what she wanted him to do.

Jack's gaze flitted down from her cerulean pools to her lips, and he lowered himself inch by inch, agonisingly slowly, feeling her hot breath against his jaw. She wetted her lips in anticipation, arching her back slightly in the hopes of feeling his chest against hers. Jack was very conscious of how his own heart raged in his ears, and how his body was screaming at him to go the rest of the way.

But he wouldn't. It was weird, but though the initial urge was to tear each other's clothes off and spend the rest of the day making sure neither of them could ever walk again, there was something deeper and richer than spontaneous sex, than giving in to primal desires and tasting each other's passion.

He released her arms, and though there was a flash of disappointment in her eyes, there was something in his that she understood. Like an unspoken truth. Delicately, he stroked away a few flyaway hairs that had come loose from her bangs, and he looked lovingly at every feature of her face that he possibly could.

"Did you…did you mean what you said?" she asked, sliding a hand from his jaw up into his hair, feeling it caress her fingertips.

"About being in control?" he raised an eyebrow. Normally, Elsa would have rapped him or given him  _'Shut up'_ , but she retained that face, the one you have when the next few minutes are so, so important to you.

"When Merida asked you about me."

Jack paused for a moment, and then smiled warmly.

"Every word."

"Even though I've been a bitch to you three times so far?" she asked again. Jack gave her an expression that stood betwixt soothing and  _'don't be silly'_.

"Elsa, I've got anger issues. You saw what I did to my apartment that night. I can't sing, I can be a really hurtful bastard if I want to be, and I've still got baggage that I'm sorting through. Knowing all that, you still take me as I am. Having to deal with the odd snap is nothing, if I get to have  _you_."

Elsa didn't really know what to say, but her mouth did the talking. Seconds before she pulled his lips to hers, she flashed him the warmest, toothiest smile she could, and then closed her eyes as skin met skin, as tongue met tongue, as fire met ice.

They kissed for what seemed like several minutes, drowning themselves in the sensations of electricity and warmth. Feeling each other's hands, so cold to the touch and yet so full of fire.

"There's only one thing that scares me." he finally gasps, pulling away for breath. Elsa traced a thumb over his upper lip as she frowned with concern.

"Normal people would be on their second or third date, and we're way past that already. I'm scared that 'cause it's been so fast-"

"Jack," she cut him off, "the past few weeks haven't been normal at all. What has happened to us has been anything  _but_ normal. Maybe this is how it was meant to be. Do you remember what I told you that night, right here?"

"Yes."

"Then you know that I've seen what I need to see, that I know what I want to know. We've just fast-tracked the dating process and we're in the relationship stage. I'm comfortable with that. Are you?"

Jack's answer was an instant, unequivocal yes.

"Then there's nothing to be scared of." she smiled into his eyes, tracing a thumb across his right eyebrow.

_Why don't you tell him?_

**_I'm waiting._ **

_For what?_

**_I've fallen in love with Jack Overland, and when I tell him, it's going to be special._ **

Jack's own thoughts were similar to hers.

_You know, this would be a fantastic time to-_

**_Not yet._ **

_You didn't even know what I was going to-_

**_You were about to suggest I tell her, and I will._ **

_When?_

**_When the time is right. Not here. I'm going to make it special._ **

Their thoughts were interrupted by the second instance of Jack's stomach uttering a feral growl, and Elsa looked down with amusement at the sound – especially when her own stomach responded in kind.

"You skipped breakfast too?" he asked, smirking knowingly. Elsa nodded, echoing his smirk with her own.

"Come on, snowflake," he said, sliding off the bed and rising to his feet, offering her a hand, "let's get you some food."

Elsa didn't take his hand for a moment; she hesitated as he had just mentioned a certain word. He didn't even notice, so she was almost loathed to bring it to his attention.

"You just called me  _snowflake_." she whispered. Jack's eyes went wide, and he looked off to the side with a deep frown, almost as though he was searching inside himself. Surely he should have mentally slapped himself for the slip of the tongue. Shouldn't he?

"Yeah," he murmured, a smile curling up on the ends of his lips, "I guess I did…"

"Why? I thought that was your name for your sister?" Elsa cocked her head, still surprised.

"It was, but…it's taken me until not long ago to let go of the past. I guess the nickname was part of that, realising that it's a term of endearment. Do you mind me calling you 'snowflake'?"

"Not at all," she smiled warmly, finally accepting his hand which she used to shuffle herself from the bed, "but, can I ask you a question? I understand if it's a no…"

"Fire away." he said, a twinkle in his eyes with the understanding of what the question might just be.

"Does that mean I get to call you Jack Frost?"

Ordinarily, he would have flipped out, just like in the college cafeteria. Felt the blood drain from his face, and ran like hell. If it was a guy, he would have knocked him out there and then,  _before_  getting the hell out of Dodge.

Now, though, he didn't feel anything of the sort. No, he felt the tingle of warmth and affection in his chest, of knowing that those names no longer held sway of his fears. Through Elsa, he felt  _freedom._ Blinking a few times, he smiled into her eyes which were currently showing the nervousness and anticipation of his next reaction.

"I'd like that," he answered sincerely, partly sternly, but with a warm smile, "but you're the  _only_  one who gets to call me that."


	26. Snowflakes at Christmas

_Merida…_

_Me-ri-da…_

_Where do I know that name from?_

Nursing a steaming hot mocha as she waited patiently for the awakening of her little sister, Elsa relaxed on the sofa and stared in thought at the Christmas tree. It hadn't occurred to her upon seeing the flame-haired woman on Jack's television screen yesterday, but something about the name was familiar.

"Anna!" she yelled out, "Are you going to wake up, or what?"

She made a mental note to ask her sister about it later, assuming she woke up. Right now, it was nine o'clock on Christmas morning. Presents were waiting to be opened…and Anna was sleeping in.

She  _never_  slept in on Christmas morning.

Elsa pulled her phone from her light grey cardigan pocket and smiled to herself as she quickly typed and fired off a text, the destination obvious.

_"Merry Christmas! Opened your presents yet? – Elsa x"_

The reply came back almost instantly.

_"Same to you, snowflake. Nah, they're still sitting under North's tree. Waiting until you guys get here. Miss you. – Jack x"_

Elsa's smile crept further up her face as she fired off a reply to  _that_  reply.

_"Miss you too, Frost. Aww, that's sweet. What are you doing now? I'm waiting for Anna-Zombie to wake up. – Elsa x"_

_"I'm practising 'I Will Wait'. Pretty much got it down, now. And what?! Anna hasn't opened her presents yet?! That's nuts. Go drop a bucket of water on her head or something…and take a photo. – Jack x"_

Not long after their breakfast-cum-lunch yesterday, Jack had received a call from his godmother enlisting his aid for some last minute Christmas food shopping before today's party, though Elsa was puzzled to see him quickly dive into the bedroom, ferret around under his bed and reappear with an innocent expression. She immediately enquired with nosy curiosity, to which his answer was  _'Pleading the Fifth'_ , with a tap of his nose. After assisting him with the shopping, they had parted – naturally, with a goodbye kiss – and Elsa was left brimming with anticipation, and because of the sheer amount of food Jack had been told to purchase, mouth-watering hunger.

When she woke on Christmas morning, she knew that today was going to be  _awesome_.

Shuffling from the kitchen area stirred Elsa's attention, and she turned her head left, chuckling to herself as she spotted a pink dressing gown-toting Anna wiping her bleary eyes with her right hand, trying in vain to set up the coffee dispenser.

"Morning…" came the sleepy, groggy greeting.

"I'm soundproofing your room." Elsa announced, dryly. She was pleased that Anna and Kristoff had taken the leap, but it was as though they were making up for lost time. There were only so many songs in Elsa's playlist that could drown out the awkwardness.

Anna flushed a bright red and averted her gaze, suddenly feeling a  _little_  less sleepy. Finally able to successfully make the coffee – which was hilariously ironic as the machine is, for all intents and purposes, automated – she trudged over to the space by her elder sister and flopped down, nearly spilling her drink in the process. Sipping the hot, revitalizing drink, she became starkly aware of her elder sister's amused gaze.

"What?" she asked in confusion.

Elsa said nothing, continuing the stare but raising an eyebrow.

"Seriously, you're creeping me out. What? Have I got something on my face?" she repeated, shrinking away slightly.

"Anna Snowfield, you disappoint me." Elsa finally spoke, the edges of her lips curling.

"Oh, jeez. What have I done now?" the little sister rolled her eyes in exasperation.

"Forgotten what day it is?"

Anna shifted her eyes to her sister, narrowing them as she tried to understand the question. She mouthed the dates of the previous few days, and Elsa could practically hear the cogs turning in her head. Finally, with an almost audible  _click_ , Anna's eyes suddenly went wide and, with a gasp, she quickly placed the coffee on the table, vaulted the sofa and ran to her room.

"Kristoff! Get the hell up! It's Christmas morning!"

Elsa let loose a laugh, which intensified when Anna rushed back from her room, vaulted the sofa once more with the agility of a triple-jumper, and nearly dived into the pile of presents. Elsa's laughter now became raucous, and with shaking hands she took a picture of Anna, currently on her knees with her butt high in the air as she rooted under the tree, pulling out present after present. Attaching it to a message of  _'Christmas morning in the Snowfield House'_ , she sent it to Jack.

_"HAHA! That's gonna be her caller ID picture now. Epic. – Jack x"_

Immediately after that, Anna finished her delving, so with fluid ease Elsa quickly hid the phone, just as her little sister trotted over with the first catch of the day.

"From…you!" she read the label, and then began tearing into the present with vicious abandon. Strips of wrapping paper soared into the air, some landing on the floor, some on Elsa, and one particularly large strip floated down Kristoff's face when he had the misfortune to arrive at that specific time.

"Its…oh wow, this feels goooorgeous…" Anna gushed, picking up the material of a long, elegant dress. It was black velvet, corseted, sweetheart-bust lined, cap sleeved dress, with a pale green full-length skirt. Vertically adorning the skirt, a crocus motif pattern ran from the corset to the bottom hem along a slightly darker green strip in identical spacing around the skirt, and the black corset held a similar crocus with blue filigree branching out from its side, with gold trim around the corset edges.

"Oh my God…this is beautiful. Thank you so much, Elsa. I'm gonna wear it today for the party." Anna gushed, barely above a whisper. Elsa felt a blossom of pride and happiness at her sister's reaction.

There were perks to being the CEO of a fashion company.

* * *

 

Three hours later, Anna having completely annihilated the wrapping paper of most of the presents, Elsa was sat in front of her dressing table, braiding her hair with meticulous care. One of Anna's many presents to her included several tiny snowflake hair-clips, so with each braid section she had clipped one in alternate positions. A silver fountain pen set sat proudly on the table proper, and a couple of new figures for  _Infinity_  perched on the bedside cabinet.

Anna burst into the room, which would have made Elsa jump had she not been used to it, and she leaned against the door as though to keep out something that was absolutely terrifying.

"I hate you, Elsa. If I hear Kristoff play that damn Mumford & Sons song one more time, I'm going to break that banjo you bought him over his head."

Elsa snickered, and asked which song.

"You  _know_  which song." Anna glowered threateningly.

_Ah. Same one Jack's been playing. I wonder…_

"Oh wow, your hair looks pretty…the snowflakes really enhance your braid, don't they?" Anna raised an impressed eyebrow, walking over to gaze at Elsa's reflection.

"Yep! They're perfect. Thank you, Anna." the elder sister smiled in gratitude. Anna shrugged a  _'no problem'_  shrug.

"Oooh, will you do my hair?" she bounced on the balls of her feet, her arms vertically together across her chest in childish glee.

"Sure…but you know Punzie's better at this. What do you want, pigtails, braid, bun?" Elsa asked, rising from the chair and resting her hands on the back-rest as Anna took her place.

"For that dress? Bun. Maybe a bit of braid, please."

After brushing the still-wild hair thoroughly, Elsa began to braid a strip of hair along one side of Anna's head to the other, before firing off a question.

"Anna, that girl you used to talk to on MSN when we were in high school, the one you thought we were picking up from the airport, what was her name?"

"Who,  _horsesandarrows?_  Merida. Why?" Anna frowned at the out-of-the-blue question.

"Just wondering, did you ever get to see what she looked like?" Elsa continued, fixing the braid behind her sister's right ear with a bobby pin.

"Yeah, though I'm pretty sure it's fake.  _No-one_ has hair  _that_  red and curly. That's like Rapunzel's dream to style. Why?"

_Jeez, six degrees of separation or what._

"No reason. I was just curious." Elsa shrugged noncommittally, pulling the free hair over the braid behind Anna's ears and linking it with the rest of the un-braided hair into a ponytail. Anna narrowed her eyes, but decided to let it be. It wasn't often that she got sister-time like this; she was just going to enjoy the moment.

"What are you wearing to the party?" she asked, her eyes flicking up to Elsa's intently focused pools, currently scrutinizing the 'O' shape she was creating on the back of her little sister's head.

"That blue dress I got few weeks ago, you know the one with the bodice?"

Anna beamed, and sucked in an awed breath.

"Oh, that's…good choice!" she gushed, feeling the last bobby pin slide into the bun. Elsa announced that she was finished, and Anna turned her head from side to side, admiring her elder sister's handiwork, gently stroking it as she continued to beam.

"Punzie's got  _nothing_  on you, 'sis. I love it. What did you want to do, get dressed here then drive down to Mr St North's, or get dressed when we're there?"

"Ideally the second one, but I'll text Jack and see if it's okay. Plus…I need to find out where they live…" Elsa answered, pulling her phone out once more and sending the relevant message. After about five minutes, Jack responded affirmatively.

_"Nick says that's fine. You can use my room, if you want. Would it be easier if I came and picked you guys up? Nick's place is a pain in the ass to get to, and I still get lost sometimes. – Jack x"_

"Jack's offering to pick us up, that okay with you?" she asked, and Anna nodded her agreement.

_"Sure! See you in an hour? – Elsa x"_

_"Great! Can't wait. See you soon. – Jack x"_

* * *

 

They heard a knock about an hour and ten minutes later, and upon opening the front door, Elsa burst into laughter. Jack was wearing the most horrible Christmas sweater in existence, a vibrant red with green zig-zags along the shoulders, and a garish looking brown Rudolph sat happily on the chest, with a pair of googly eyes and a prominent bulbous red nose that actually  _stuck out_  of the jumper.

"Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up." he groaned.

Elsa practically collapsed with mirth; the only thing keeping her vertical was her hand gripping the door. Anxious to see what all the fuss was about, Anna and Kristoff appeared behind her…and promptly doubled over too. Jack felt his cheeks and ears begin to burn, and with embarrassed irritation and more than a few curses, he pulled off the jumper and stuffed it roughly under his arm.

"Keep it up, I'll let you guys find your own way." he growled with a half-smile, waiting for the gang to finish laughing at his expense.

"What…what was…why?" Elsa tried to manage, but was still crippled by giggles.

"Let's just say I lost a bet. Are we done now?" he answered a little tersely, starting to feel a little more annoyed. Elsa wiped a tear, feeling the mirth finally start to subside, and she stood out of the way to let him in. Jack's eyes roved across the floor, witnessing the carnage of Anna's present unwrapping.

"Jeez, what happened here? Godzilla find your presents or something?" he gaped incredulously. Both Kristoff and Elsa pointed at the smaller sister, who was still gripped with giggles. Jack thought it would be a good time to get revenge, and he quietly pulled out his phone from his trouser pocket, pulled up a certain picture and held the screen towards the three.

Now it was Anna's turn to flush bright red with embarrassment, while Kristoff and Elsa snorted into laughter once more.

"I'm gonna go get my dress…" she muttered as her face caught fire, then stalked off toward the bedroom. Still chuckling, Kristoff followed suit, leaving the two together.

"You hair looks lovely. I like what you've done with the braid." Jack smiled, his eyes tracing down each snowflake. Elsa blushed a little as she laced her left fingers with his right.

"Thanks. You look quite handsome in that suit." she smiled in return. Jack had mimicked his usual business attire, this time going for a black waistcoat and trousers but with a light, icy blue tie on a white shirt.

"I do, don't I?" he smirked, earning a rap on his arm from Elsa's free hand.

"Pfft," Anna scoffed, returning with three clear plastic clothing bags while a banjo-toting Kristoff made his way to the tree, "when you see what Elsa's wearing, it's gonna blow your  _mind_."

Jack raised impressed and curious eyebrows at his girlfriend, who nodded without a trace of arrogance.

"So, we ready to go then?" Kristoff asked, hidden behind a pile of presents that he was carrying in his arms. Jack shook his head exasperatedly, releasing Elsa's hand to reach up and pull the topmost few presents from the pile.

"Thanks…" Kristoff muttered sarcastically, noting that he was still carrying the vast majority of them. Jack just smirked his  _'you're welcome'_  response as Elsa snickered to his right.

* * *

 

Forty five minutes later, fifteen of those having to play  _Tetris_  with the myriad of wrapped presents in the Impala's trunk, they pulled up outside Nick's huge, log cabin-styled house. Jack, as always, was the first to exit the vehicle, and after quickly rounding the bonnet he opened both Elsa and Anna's doors at the same time, chuckling inside himself when he caught Anna muttering  _'that car scares me…'_  while Elsa planted a sweet kiss on his cheek as thanks. The Impala rocked heavily when Kristoff exited the left passenger door, and he stretched his arms and legs, the interior of the car proving to be a little cramped for his huge frame.

The four trudged through the snow towards the door, and not five seconds after Jack pressed the doorbell, the wooden door swung open to reveal Nick's massive stature, wearing a similarly garish Christmas jumper and one hell of a grin behind his bushy beard. Anna did an audible gasp, it was one thing to see pictures of Nick in the papers, it was another matter entirely to see him in person.

"Ah! Good to see you all! Come in, come in, make yourselves at home!" he greeted them with a jolly rumble, standing to the side and gesturing for them to come inside. Kristoff and Jack indicated they needed to retrieve the presents from his trunk, so Elsa and Anna accepted the invitation and stepped through the door, Anna uttering another gasp as her eyes roved around the Christmassy living room.

"Miss Snowfield, it's nice to see you again! I hope your Christmas has been good?" Nick smiled at Elsa.

"Thank you. It's been lovely so far, Mr St North. This is my little sister Anna." Elsa answered, and gestured to the brimming vessel of joy that was her younger sister.

"Aha! Miss Anna Snowfield! I hope you enjoyed my gift." he bowed his head, which  _still_  hovered about six inches above the sisters.

"YesthankyouIloveditOhmyGodyourhouseisawesomethisisthebestChristmasever!" Anna replied with machine-gun speed, completely doing away with both punctuation  _and_  breath. Elsa snorted into chuckles while Nick burst into hearty guffaws, standing aside once more while Jack and Kristoff barged through with the piles of presents toward the tree, eager to rid their hands of them. Nick looked quizzically between the boys and Elsa, who shrugged.

"Anna wanted to save some of them to open here." she explained, prompting Jack to gape and mouth  _'some?!'_.

Nick closed the door behind them and gestured to the three and two-seater sofas and matching chairs situated around the large roaring fire.

"Can I offer you all a drink? Tea, coffee, mulled wine, perhaps?" he asked – particular emphasis on the  _mulled wine_. Everyone nodded, Anna particularly vigorously, all choosing the third option to Nick's pleasure. He bowed his head a little and strode off to the kitchen with the orders.

"Your godfather takes Christmas very seriously it seems." Elsa noticed, her eyes roving over the cosy, Christmassy decorations adorning practically every inch of the room. Tinsel covered the mantelpiece, with Jack's tree on the other side of the two-seater sofa. Simulated icicles hung from the thick wooden beams on the ceiling, but one of the strangest things that Elsa noticed was that there was nary a motion-activated singing Christmas tree, fancy snowman or any type of contemporary decoration in sight.

"Actually, it's Thiana. Christmas is  _really_  important to her, and she's old fashioned when it comes to decorations. Very big on family, which is why she's really,  _really_  happy to have you guys here."

"Aww, that's so sweet," Anna gushed, inspecting the Christmas tree, "but my tree is still more awesome than yours."

"You can all sit down, you know." came a motherly, teasing voice from the kitchen doorway. Heads snapped around, some partly startled, and Jack sniggered to himself as Anna's jaw dropped.

"You. Have. Amazing. Hair!" she gasped, pointing at a newly-appeared Thiana, who laughed and walked forward to warmly embrace the younger sister, who now started gushing about the tie-dye green dress she was wearing.

"Anna, right?" she said, turning to the rest of the group, "I like her, can I keep her?"

Everyone including Anna snorted into laughter, and for a second the younger Snowfield actually debated the question. Staying true to her nickname, Thiana disappeared and reappeared right next to Elsa and embraced her too.

"You must be the famous Elsa Snowfield. Jack couldn't stop talking about you when he stayed here." Thiana beamed upon releasing her, prompting Jack to blush a little and look away when Elsa glanced at him with amused eyes. He could swear he heard a quiet  _'aww'_  from near the tree.

"And you, Mr Tall, Strong and Handsome, must be Kristoff." the older woman said, teleporting over to him. Kristoff smiled and blushed, and offered a gentlemanly hand which Thiana promptly ignored, pulling him down for a hug.

"No no no, we hug in this house." she said upon releasing him, stealing a quick chaste kiss on his cheek. Jack noticed that her face had become a little emotional, like she was holding something back. He strode over and beckoned her to him, wrapping his arms around her in a tight hug and rubbing her back in support. Everyone else looked away at the seemingly private moment, but when Elsa stole a glance after Jack released his godmother, she noticed that Thiana's eyes were slightly wet and she was wearing one of  _those_  smiles.

"I'm…I'm going to help Nicholas with the drinks. Be right back." she stammered a little, before whirling on her feet and disappearing into the kitchen. Everyone looked to Jack for clarification as he gazed after her.

"Like I said, family is really important to Thiana, she values it more than anything. They can't have kids, and with me being the only family they have…to have you guys here at Christmas, it kinda means the world to her."

Almost on cue, Nick and Thiana returned into the living room, Nick toting a tray with six glasses of mulled wine. Anna felt something come over her as she strode forward and wrapped her arms tightly around an initially surprised Thiana, whose expression softened into warmth when Anna whispered a few words into her ear.

"Thank you, Anna. I'm alright." was the only audible thing any of them heard, but none of them were curious enough to ask. Elsa had an idea, but kept it to herself when Nick passed the tray around for everyone to take their glasses of wine, and not five minutes after that, everyone was paired off and deep in conversation.

Anna couldn't keep her fingers from Thiana's electric blue hair as they talked, the godmother's question of  _'how have you been for the past few weeks?'_  garnering a lengthy answer, filled with frowns, gasps, and a cheer from the brightly-coloured woman when Anna simulated a punch to an invisible person's face.

Nick had taken Kristoff off to his den in the other side of the house upon hearing about his love of ice sculptures. The young barista manager had intimated during the conversation that while he didn't think he possessed the dexterity to carve, he appreciated the beauty of a finished product. Nick had scoffed, and showed him a large ice train set that almost looked like a rollercoaster, complete with a miniature train that he had built in his spare time.

Jack and Elsa had taken themselves off to his room, partly because she needed to know where to get changed before Christmas dinner. Mostly because they wanted some time to themselves before the party started in earnest.

"You've never seen what my sister looks like, have you?" Jack asked as he delved under his bed, rooting around for something. He already knew the answer, so he didn't know why he asked. Elsa's  _'nope'_  was a foregone conclusion. With a victorious  _'aha!'_  he pulled out a small shoebox, shaking it a little to check that the mystery contents were still inside. Gesturing for Elsa to sit beside him on the mattress, he lifted off the lid just as he felt the bed dip.

Inside were a few photographs, some assorted knick-knacks, some snowflake drawings, and a miniature figurine of a young boy with a hooked staff, who was barefoot with a brown cloak, white shirt and brown trousers. Jack noticed how Elsa leaned over to get a good look at the figurine, so he explained.

"Sophie bought it in some independent store when she was six. Owner said it was supposed to be a shepherd boy, but she kept saying it was Jack Frost. Argh, where are you…" he muttered the last part, flicking through the assorted photographs, before breaking into a smile. Pulling out the desired picture, he passed it over to Elsa.

With his recognisable white hair, Jack was in the middle with his right arm on the shoulders of an older woman, and his left arm protectively draped around a smaller girl. The older woman had dark brown hair in a ponytail, and was wearing a thick winter duffel coat. The younger girl had exactly the same hair colour, but in a shoulder length bob with bangs that stopped just above her eyebrows, wearing a pink  _Dora the Explorer_  winter coat. Jack stuck out like a sore thumb being the only one with white hair and blue eyes, but when she looked at how  _happy_  they all were, with a wide beam almost splitting the picture of her boyfriend's face in two, she couldn't help but smile herself.

"When was this taken?" she asked, as Sophie's bright expression grinned up at her.

"About…about a week before they died…" Jack answered. Elsa noticed his voice cracking slightly, and saw that he had one of those frowns when you're trying to hold something back, and the only thing that you can't stop is the glistening in your eyes.

"Ugh, sorry. Damn onion-chopping ninjas." he muttered awkwardly, wiping away an errant tear with his sleeve. Elsa replaced the photograph in his box and closed the lid, resting her left hand on his right.

"I know, right?" she half-smiled, "They come in, chop those onions, screw with your eyes and you can't even see them."

" _Exactly_." Jack tried to smirk, relieved that she followed the joke. Bending double but not rising from the mattress, he shoved the box back under the bed, then straightened up as he caught Elsa's eye. Her brows dipped and rose a little, and her mouth parted slightly and then closed.

"I…" she began, but then shook her head, "sorry. Not the right time yet."

"Right time for what?" he asked, but before Elsa could answer, there was a rather excitable group of knocks at the door.

"Guys! Come on! It's present time and I wanna show off my dress!" came Anna's joyful tones from the other side. Jack scowled at the interruption, but in true prankster form, an idea swam into his head as a rather mischievous smile crept up on his face.

"What are you planning…?" Elsa asked, narrowing her eyes. Jack promptly loosened his tie and undid the top few buttons, and then stood near the door.

"Just follow my lead." he whispered, and with a click Elsa cottoned on to the joke. She took her cardigan off and laced her fingers under her icy blue top and pulled it up to just below her bra, waiting with a grin.

Anna was tapping her foot and bouncing impatiently when the door swung open, revealing a rather breathless looking Elsa pulling down her top, and Jack re-buttoning his shirt. Both with expressions of deep satisfaction on their faces.

"Oh…sorry…I…er…" she stammered, a little fluster to go with the furious crimson in her cheeks.

"Oh, it's no problem. See you downstairs?" he said suavely, winking at Elsa.

"Mmhm!" she winked in return, biting her lip with a coy expression. It didn't last for long, the laughter proved far too strong to keep concealed and thus burst out, filling the room with sounds of mirth. Anna's eyes darted uncomprehendingly between the two, staring at Jack as he staggered out of the door and down the stairs.

"So…you didn't just…"

Elsa could only shake her head, the giggles proving too strong to speak.

* * *

 

"Jack, could I speak privately?"

Nick's question took him a little off-guard, especially as an hour after he had come downstairs he was in mid-conversation with Kristoff at the time. Nodding with puzzled concern, Jack followed his godfather into the kitchen, where the smell of Christmas cooking was proving to be exceptionally overwhelming. Nick placed his half-full glass of wine on the kitchen counter while he collected his thoughts, prompting Jack to narrow his eyes slightly.

"I wanted to talk to you about Saturday, when you visited the Pole." he began, regarding his godson with a look that Jack couldn't quite work out.

"Okay, what's wrong? Did the negotiations fall through?" Jack asked, sipping from his own glass as he frowned.

"They never took place, my boy, because the projections were faked."

"I knew it!" Jack exclaimed quietly, quickly placing the glass next to Nick's, folding his arms and regarding his godfather with a suspicious look.

"You see, I wanted to see how you could handle a crisis like that, and I must say you handled yourself admirably." Nick smiled a fatherly smile, placing his hands in the pockets of his huge trousers.

"It wasn't just me, though. Elsa helped." Jack clarified.

"No, but it told me what I needed to know. Jack, I am stepping down as CEO of North Pole Toy Industries, and I am naming  _you_  as my successor."

Jack felt his jaw drop, his eyes widen, and his breath was stolen and taken to who-knows-where.

"You gotta be kidding me…" he could only manage, the sheer weight of Nick's revelation falling down on him. He had just gotten used to a normal life, but now he had to get used to the life of a CEO? Hard work, deadlines? Sure, he knew that at  _some_  point he was going to take over, but to hear about it  _now?_  To say that it pulled the rug from under his feet was an understatement.

"Why?" was all he could muster.

"I do not have the energy to run the company anymore, Jack. I know I don't look it, but I feel age starting to catch up with me. Phil has had to take on more and more as the months go by, and if I am honest I just want to retire, to live the rest of my life. I have already talked this over with the shareholders, and we all feel that the time is right for some new blood to take over, to take the company in a new direction."

"When…when do I start?" he asked weakly, running a hand through his hair as his thoughts ran rampant.

"Twenty seventh of December. The paperwork has already been filed."

" _The day after tomorrow?!_  Oh jeez. What about college? What about…what about Elsa?" Jack gaped, completely losing the ability to think straight. He wasn't going to lie; he was worried about how it would affect their relationship.

"Jack, we both know you've done enough studying during your isolation to pass that course three times over. You're only at Arendelle College so you can get the formal qualifications…and I wanted to keep you out of trouble. It's simple: you just balance your work schedule around your college schedule. As for Elsa…"

Nick stepped forward and placed supportive hands upon his godson's shoulders, and Jack looked up with almost terrified eyes.

"I will give you the same piece of advice that I gave to your father, and to hers.  _Make the time for those you love_."

"Nick, she's going to be a CEO soon too! How are we  _both_  going to be able to-"

" _Jack._  Calm down. If what you have with Elsa is as important as I believe it is, you can both figure it out. After all, Thiana and I did. Plus…"

He squeezed his godson's shoulder.

"…if your plan succeeds, you'll both be working together. Same schedules, same meetings…you might get to the point where you'll be sick of each other!"

He had completely forgotten about that part, with all the hubbub of the last few days. It was true, if Jack's idea went right, he and Elsa would be inseparable. The only problem was…would she go along with it, given her attachment to the company, and the family name? To her father's legacy?

"Thanks…I think. Do you really think I can do it? Lead your company?" he asked, almost desperate to hear the answer. Nick did his curtain-hitch smile once more, and nodded.

"I do…and it's not my company any more. It's  _yours._ "

_Jeez. That's so weird to hear._

A voice from the kitchen doorway disturbed them both, and it happened to be Kristoff poking his head past the doorframe.

"Psst! Jack! They're coming!" he whispered, before disappearing. Jack nodded numbly, and with his mind still racing through the conversation he started to walk towards the living room, turning his head briefly towards his godfather.

"I'll do it…but don't blame me if you come back to a smoking crater." he managed a half-smirk. Nick burst into laughter, which followed Jack as he made his way toward the bottom of the stairs. For a second, he wondered what all the fuss was about until he heard footsteps coming down the first two steps, and for the second time he lost the ability to breathe as his throat closed in on itself, and his mouth went dry as a desert. For the first time in a long time, he could no longer think. No thoughts of the past, no thoughts of being CEO, nothing.

He could not tear his eyes away from the stunning, ethereal woman almost gliding down the stairs in icy blue kitten heels, wearing a long, shimmering, light blue dress that seemed to be made of ice itself, split to just above her right knee. The slight sweetheart bodice was the same shade of blue, with rectangular sequins reflecting the light like a rippling sunlit lake, and attached to the top was a translucent material that rose an inch or two from the top bodice hem, tracing around to form the sleeves of the dress.

Elsa gave him a warm, slightly self-conscious smile that became a giggle at Jack's expression of complete, brain-melted vacancy. Her eyes flicked over to Kristoff who was wearing much the same expression as he gazed at Anna, resplendent in her light green glory.

"What do you think?" she asked, giving Jack a slow twirl, the dress swirls an echo of her movement. Jack could only nod weakly and mumble.

"Y-you look…indescribable." he finally managed, thinking of the closest word that could even match how he felt. That particular word didn't even come close, but it would have to do.

"Told you!" gloated Anna. For once, Jack wasn't going to retort. She was totally, totally right. Elsa's eyes, so full of amusement and pleasure, darted to the right and back again, a silent message of  _'are you going to gawp, or are we going to open presents?'_. Jack shook himself a little violently to try and re-ignite his senses, and held the crook of his arm towards her.

"Yes…presents…engage…brain." he stammered, eliciting a laugh from Elsa as she hooked her left arm with his, and with Kristoff and Anna mimicking much the same reactions, they slowly walked over to the sofas like a procession, with Elsa and Jack taking the three-seater facing the fire, Anna and Kristoff taking the two-seater to the right and Thiana already sat on one of the chairs to the left, while Nick returned with an armful of presents. His wife reached up and retrieved a specific few, reading out the labels to each one.

"These ones are from us to…Elsa, Anna and Kristoff." she announced, passing them over. The sisters frowned, aware of the fact that they had not purchased anything for Thiana and Nick, not having a clue of what they wanted.

"But…we didn't-"

"Pah! Don't worry about it. Not like we've known each other for long." Thiana scoffed. Anna – surprisingly carefully this time – opened her present and beamed with glee, proudly showing the contents to her elder sister.

"Chocolates! Belgian! Omnomnomnom!" she squeaked, jiggling the box as she bounced. Elsa leaned forward to try and read the box, but Anna jerked it back, hissing a  _'mine! You can't have any!'_ , much to everyone's mirth.

"There's more." Nick announced, pointedly nodding his head towards the remnants of the paper. Anna rustled through it and found a smaller package, which she tentatively opened to reveal a gold necklace supporting a small picture of Mickey Mouse as  _Steamboat Willie_ from 1928.

"Something old." Thiana smiled, combining Anna's love of Disney with the future wedding. The little sister shot over to the two of them and embraced them each in a warm, grateful hug.

"Thank you both so much." she gushed, trying very hard not to cry, and stepped back over to the two-seater to show Kristoff the picture.

Elsa opened hers to reveal a different box of chocolates – Swiss – which she smugly waved at her little sister, along with a silver charm bracelet that already sported a few miniature snowmen.

"Oh, that's lovely. Thank you both!" she smiled, sliding the bracelet onto her right wrist and gazing appreciatively at it.

Kristoff's turn was next, and the wrapping revealed two things. The first was from the two hosts, and it was a heavy pewter beer tankard with a lid. His eyes roved over every inch of the intricate carvings adorning its side.

"Oh man, I am gonna use this to  _death_ ," he grinned, waving it up and down to test the weight, "thanks, guys. This is awesome."

"No problem. We weren't sure what else to give to you, so Jack kindly helped us out." Nick said as Kristoff unwrapped his second present…and promptly attempted to clobber a sniggering Jack over the head with the tankard. It was a book entitled ' _How to Make Real Coffee'_ , which had the sisters in fits of laughter.

Then came Jack's turn, and with trepidation he retrieved his two presents from Nick's lap. He hesitated for a moment, having avoided the topic of Christmas for such a long time, and now surrounded by friends, family and the love of his life, he was unsure of how to proceed. Noticing the silence start to become awkward, he tentatively unwrapped the first gift – a pair of silver cufflinks with sapphires embedded into them, and the other present was a silver pocket watch attached to a long chain.

"Oh wow…" he murmured as he admired the gifts, dangling the pocket watch and gazing as it revolved slowly with the momentum.

"We thought you should look smart for your big day." Thiana smiled, prompting a curious frown from Elsa. Jack whispered a  _'tell you later'_ , which did not help her intrigued feeling.

"So," Anna leaned forward, pretending to be secretive, "I think I speak for all of us here when I say that we're wondering what you bought for Elsa."

Jack's gaze snapped up to the younger sister, and the small box in his pocket seemed to feel a lot larger and heavier. Purposefully placing the watch back in its box and the cufflinks on top, he rose to his feet and offered her his hand.

"It's something I want to show her privately, if you guys don't mind." he announced, with a tone of finality in his voice. A little air of disappointment settled around the room, which he tried to defuse by suggesting that they open the gifts that he bought for them. On his wavelength, while Elsa took Jack's hand and elegantly rose to her feet, Thiana grinned and stepped over to the tree to retrieve the rest of the gifts.

* * *

 

Leading Elsa towards the French doors as he laced his fingers with hers, silent anticipation hung between them. Jack became incredibly conscious of the thundering in his chest and the tingling in his lips, and with an ever-so-slightly shaking hand he opened the doors to the huge back yard. Elsa stepped through first; feeling her own heart thundering and a little light-headedness and she waited patiently on the veranda while Jack closed the door behind them and gestured to the two chairs on the right side, just under the kitchen window.

As they assumed their seats there was a silence that hung betwixt them, but it was not awkward, tense or pained. It was more like an air of nervousness, and most of it radiating from Jack. He took a moment to collect his thoughts, his mouth opening and closing as he did so. Elsa watched him patiently; conscious of the deep breathing that was causing her chest to rise and fall, the sequins on her bodice glittering with light radiating from the warm lamps hanging from the veranda's ceiling.

"I…" he began, his voice breaking the silence like thunder in the clear evening sky, "don't know how to do this, so please bear with me."

Elsa smiled, and laced her fingers with his. It didn't do much to assuage the war drums in his chest, but the sensation of her soft skin against his seemed to ground him, and give him strength. His eyes flicked to her soft hands, her thumb stroking the base of  _his_  thumb supportively. He became starkly aware of the lump in his throat, the cold bite of the winter air on his skin and  _oh God, why was it so hard to breathe? To speak?_

His gaze slowly traced up her arms, starting from those elegant fingers all the way along the translucent sleeve, resting briefly on her shoulders that rose and fell with each and every breath she took, up to her parted lips, along that dainty nose and finally, resting on those cerulean pools that had chased the nightmares away, what felt like an eternity ago. He decided.

It was the right time.

With her, he had found his strength.

"Elsa, you're pretty much the first person on my mind when I wake up and the last face I see when I fall asleep is yours. You're in my thoughts pretty much _all_ the time. Without you, I wouldn't have come out of my shell. Just being around you is like nothing I'd ever dreamed...I guess...I guess what I'm trying to say is..."

"...I love you."

Her hands involuntarily tightened and she felt her breathing suddenly stop, and her entire face seemed to relax with surprise as her lips parted just that little bit more. She felt her heart begin to thunder even louder, and it came with a deep, burning ache. She noticed Jack's face begin to fall as he looked away with the lack of response, and with a surge of emotion she decided.

She wasn't having that. She wasn't going to allow him to jump to the wrong conclusion, not in this moment that was quite possibly the biggest in their lives. He may have been the first to say it, but she would provide the answer that both of them craved.

Rising from her chair, she tugged at his hand to encourage him to stand as well, and almost reluctantly he did. He still avoided her eyes, which almost  _hurt_ , so she placed her thumb and forefinger under his chin and moved his head to face hers. His eyes still looked down, and she could almost  _feel_  the ache in his chest as she placed that hand upon the back of his head.

"Jack, look at me." she asked, almost commanded. Eventually, he did, and there was a sad look in his gaze. Giving herself to the torrent of love in her chest, she surged her lips forward to his and, had there been any fireworks nearby, they would have exploded from the sheer electricity arcing out from the touch. Wrapping her other arm around his neck to deepen the kiss, she felt the deep vibration in his throat mingle with the quiet moans from hers, and felt his hands rest upon the small of her back and draw her body closer to his. It was a slow, meaningful, tender kiss that seemed to last forever, and she was almost loathed to break the sweet union of their lips until she remembered precisely  _why_  she had to.

"Jack, you have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that, because since I drove back from Bennett's house yesterday, I've been trying  _so hard_  to tell you how I feel about you, about how lucky I feel to have you by my side. I know it goes without saying but..."

"...I love  _you_ , Jack."

Those three words he had desperately craved to hear, that made the lump in his throat all the larger, that threatened to make his heart just  _stop_. He felt a tiny, solitary tear form in his right duct, and noticed one begin to swell in Elsa's eyes, so full of sincerity.

"Fuck, you have no idea how much I've been wanting to hear you say that." he murmured, just barely enough for only the two of them to hear.

"I kinda think I do, Frost." she smiled, wrapping her other arm around his shoulder and pulling him to her for a loving hug…and then she felt something hard in his pocket. Pulling back sharply, with a coy smirk, she raised an eyebrow.

"Is that something in your pocket, or are you pleased to see me?"

Jack frowned, not quite understanding the phrase.

_Something…pocket…OH!_

With an  _'oh!'_  of realisation, he moved one hand from her back into his trouser pocket and pulled out the jewellery box, stroking it meaningfully. Elsa followed his gaze down, and her eyes widened with a tiny gasp. For a brief moment, she felt a flicker of fear.

_It's one thing for me to tell him I love him…but a proposal? This is too early…_

"I had this made for you, when I stayed here that week. It arrived on Christmas Eve…I hope you like it." he murmured shyly, a red tinge appearing in his otherwise pale cheeks. Elsa tentatively took the box from him, and hesitated before opening it. Was it what she thought it was? Did she have the heart to say  _'no'_ , after not two minutes ago telling him that she loved him?

Gently opening the box, she felt her heart stop and her breath seem to disappear, along with a flash of guilt for jumping to the wrong conclusion.

Inside the box sat a necklace, with a three-inch diameter silver snowflake attached to it. In the centre was a tiny, aquamarine gem in the shape of a six-petal, straight edged flower, with a diamond adorning the tips of each of the six largest arms. Instantly, she recognised the configuration of the design.

It was the same snowflake that Jack had given her on their date, the picture that currently resided in her bedroom.

"Oh my God…" was all she could manage, tracing a shaking fingertip over the precious necklace.

"Do you like it?" he asked, full of hope. This time, she did not wait to answer.

"Jack, I love it. It's beautiful. I…thank you." she whispered, her eyes glassy and full of emotion. Wearing a wide smile, Jack pulled out his own pendant, her eyes flicking over to the snowflake dangling from the thin black tube. It matched the designs that adorned his neck.

"I like snowflakes because they're unique, and individual. Special. When I drew that design in the café, all I could think about was you, so that kinda makes it your personal snowflake, I guess. 'Cause…you know…you're unique and special." he said a little awkwardly, scratching the back of his head. Elsa flashed him a warm, heart-freezing smile and turned around as she lifted up her braid and waited. Jack slid the necklace from the box, unclasped it and laid it around her neck, quietly cursing the fiddly clasp. Her smile deepened when he finally succeeded, feeling the cold metal kiss her neck and chest.

"What do you think?" she asked, turning to face him once more so he could get a good look.

"I think you've never looked more beautiful before tonight." he said, every word with sincerity. Elsa's face flushed with colour, and letting her braid fall down onto her left shoulder she laced all of her fingers with his, pulling him close to her as they met with a lingering, loving kiss. Jack parted just an inch, losing himself in her eyes for just a second…when an idea crept into his mind. Fishing his phone from his  _other_  trouser pocket, he pulled Elsa to his side and, with the understanding what he was about to do, she nestled the side of her face against his.

"I want to remember this moment." he announced.

Switching the camera setting to face them, Jack took four photographs.

The first one was of them gazing at the camera with wide, toothy smiles.  
The second one was of them both pulling faces and sticking their tongues out.  
The third one, Jack was planting a tender kiss to Elsa's temple, her eyes closed and a warm smile on her face.  
The fourth…they were too busy with their lips meeting in a loving embrace to look at the camera.

Two lovers, immortalized in digital glory.

"Think we should go back inside?" Jack asked, as they flicked through the brand new images. He looked up as snow began to fall in a gentle, slow descent.

_Yep, today has been just about perfect._

"Nah," Elsa answered, slowly shaking her head, "it's going to be crazy in there. I want you all to myself for just a little bit longer."

Jack grinned as he nodded his agreement, and with his hand resting on her right hip, and her left hand resting on his, they watched the delicate descent of snow from the moonlit sky.

"I love you, Jack Frost."

"I love you too, snowflake."


	27. White Knights and Nursery Rhymes

They had been outside for at least ten minutes after the confession, simply watching the dainty snow complete its inexorable descent from moonlit sky to sparkling, powdery ground. Had it been anyone else, they would have been wrapped up warm with winter coats and be clutching mugs of hot chocolate to stave off the chilly bite of the winter's evening.

But Jack Overland and Elsa Snowfield were not, in any way, bothered by the cold.

Far from it.

To them, winter was the season where Mother Nature could stretch her fingers and indulge her passion as an artist. Sure, all of the other seasons were tied to the cycle of natural birth, life and death – but it was the final season of the year that turned the world into the canvas on which Nature would paint.

"You don't look happy, Jack. Are you okay?" came Elsa's sweet voice from his right, and she squeezed his hand with emphasis. Jack glanced at her, and then smiled an almost sad smile as he exhaled sharply through his nose and shifted his eyes downwards.

"What would you say if I told you that Nick made me CEO of the Pole?" he blurted out, anxious of the feeling that the longer he kept it to himself, the harder it would be to say.

"I'd say…about time too." she grinned, stealing a quick kiss on his cheekbone. Jack snapped his head up, and his expression was one of  _'eh?'_. Rolling her eyes, Elsa clarified.

"Judging by what you've done so far, I think you're more than ready for the job…and if I'm honest, I envy you. At least you weren't kind of  _forced_  into the role."

Jack felt a flash of guilt. She was right. Nick gave him the option – sort of – to take the reins of the company, whereas Elsa seemed to be unwillingly manoeuvred into the role…at the cost of the reputation of her predecessor. Elsa reached her right hand over to his side and pulled him to face her, and she saw uncertainty in his eyes.

"What is it that has you so worried, Frost?" she asked, frowning.

"It's…" he began, but sighed as it all came out, "loads of things. Black is still out there, and he's quiet. I don't like it. On top of that, it's balancing college work with the company…and on top of  _that_ , I'm worried about what it'll do to us, and-"

"You're afraid you'll turn out like your father, aren't you?" Elsa interrupted, with a laser-guided, armour-piercing question rivalling that of her younger sister. Jack was mildly stunned by the accuracy, so it was all he could do to nod.

"I've been having the same fears," she admitted, looking down as she placed her right hand on his chest and felt his heart beat under her fingertips, "I was scared that when I take over on New Year's Eve, that I'm going to fall into the same routines that my father had. When I drove back from Bennett's house, I was worried that when I take over…that we'd have no time together. That I wouldn't be able to see Anna anywhere near as much as I do now, and we'd go right back to when I locked myself in my room."

Jack placed his hands on her upper arms, stroking the translucent material in a supportive gesture.

"But then I look at Nicholas and Thiana, and I can see that it  _is_  possible to do it, to balance a company with maintaining a relationship. If they, and all the other couples that have to work separate jobs can do it, there's no reason that we can't. We'll see each other in college, remember?"

"Yeah…I guess…but what about-" he began, but Elsa cut him off, pinching the bridge of her nose with exasperation as she spoke.

"Jack, you're killing me here. Yes, Black is a problem. Yes, I'm worried that we're in the eye of the storm, and soon things are going to be hard for us. I'm worried about my company, and I'm worried that you've made a target of yourself by helping me. I'm trying not to think about any of those things right now, because it's Christmas, I'm among friends and family, and I was just told by a certain man that he loves me. I'm the happiest I've ever been."

She punctuated the next sentence with six jabs to his chest using her left forefinger.

" _So stop ruining the fucking moment!"_  she hissed, trying not to betray the command with the smirk creeping onto her face. Jack chuckled, and gently stroked her braid.

"How did I get so lucky to have you, snowflake?" he whispered. Elsa's eyes creased as she half-smiled a little too smugly, and cocked her eyebrows once.

"Face it, Frost. You won the jackpot." she teased, squeezing the tip of his nose with her thumb. In return, Jack leaned forward and 'bit' her nose with his lips.

"Hey, look. Jack Frost, nipping at your nose."

"Oh God, that's awful," she groaned at the pun, rolling her eyes into the back of her head as though it was actually painful. Jack snickered, just as the French doors opened behind them and Anna's head poked out.

"Psst! Christmas dinner is in T minus five!" she hissed with a grin, and just as quickly as she appeared, she was gone.

"That's our cue. Come on, Frost. We've been anti-social long enough." Elsa declared, tugging his hand to reinforce the point. Jack pouted and pulled a  _'but I don't wanna'_  face, much to Elsa's amusement, but reluctantly acquiesced.

_She's right. When you dwell too long on the possibilities of the future, you miss out on the here and now, just like Nick said. Enjoy the peace, before the storm hits._

Closing the doors behind them as they entered the room, their ears were treated to the melodic tones of Kristoff's banjo as he strummed along to a very, very familiar song in Jack's mind.

" _I Will Wait?"_  he cocked an eyebrow in Kristoff's direction as the burly man was sat relaxed on the two-seater chair, with Anna by his side covering her ears. Kristoff's head twisted around, and his mouth cracked into a grin.

"Yup. Love that song." he declared, before resuming the strumming, albeit a little quieter. Elsa nudged her elbow into Jack's side, an idea forming.

"You've been learning that song on the guitar, haven't you?" she said a little loudly so Kristoff could hear, the hint about as subtle as a driverless runaway tank. Kristoff's head whirled around once more and he practically beamed. Anna's eyes darted from person to person, her hands preventing her from hearing what was going on.

"Oh man, I've been waiting for someone to play it with me!" he enthused.

"But what about dinner? Anna said it was in five minutes." Jack pointed out.

"Actually, about ten. Mrs St North wants to make sure it's perfect." Kristoff countered.

"Why don't you go and get your guitar, Jack? I haven't heard you play it…except for  _Stockholm Syndrome_  at college…and that was bad." Elsa pressed, the hint now with the force of a runaway train.

"Hey!" he gave her indignant, "that's a hard song to play! And anyway, you know I can't sing."

"That's okay," Kristoff shrugged, not letting Jack off the hook, "Elsa can. She knows the words."

Elsa shot him a glare, which was returned with a smug smirk. She didn't expect it to backfire on her.

"Oh  _yeah_! Alright, I'll do it, on one condition. I play, Elsa sings. No deal otherwise."

Kristoff grinned and looked expectantly at Elsa, while Jack folded his arms and gave her one hell of a smug smirk. Crimson embarrassment flushed her cheeks, and she pursed her lips at being cornered. She wanted to hear Jack play, but she wasn't expecting to  _sing_  too.

_"Fine._ " she snapped. Jack grinned and walked off to his room to retrieve his guitar, while Anna finally removed her hands from her ears, looking at each of them with a quizzical expression…which changed to dismay when Jack returned toting an acoustic guitar, plonking himself down on the three-seater.

"You're not…" she began, groaning.

"Oh, we are." Kristoff teased.

Jack took the first fifteen seconds to re-familiarise himself with the chords, while Kristoff waited patiently. Shooting Elsa a quick look to remind her of the agreement, which she returned with narrowed eyes, he nodded to Kristoff that he was ready.

Anna covered her ears once more.

"One...two...three...four." Kristoff counted down, and with perfect timing, the acoustic melody and the high-tempo banjo plucking began in earnest, signalling the introduction to the song that Kristoff loved and Anna dreaded. Jack's eyes were locked upon Elsa's as she took the space beside him, and his expression was one of  _'you ready?'_ to which hers was  _'you're going to regret this.'_.

But then, eighteen seconds in, Jack almost missed a chord change when he discovered exactly  _why_  Elsa won that song competition in high school.

 

_Well I came home like a stone,_   
_And I fell heavy into your arms._   
_These days of dust which we've known,_   
_Will blow away with this new sun._

 

Nick and Thiana had paused their inspection of the roast beef to stand in the kitchen doorway and listen to the music. Jack stole a glance at Elsa as she sang, and the smile on his face felt like it would never leave.

 

_But I'll kneel down, wait for now.  
And I'll kneel down, know my ground._

_And I will wait, I will wait for you.  
And I will wait, I will wait for you._

 

Elsa nudged Jack as he was mouthing along to the lyrics, and nodded towards her little sister. Jack followed her gaze as he strummed, and chuckled when he noticed that despite her hands being clamped over her ears, she was gently jigging along to the music…albeit muffled.

 

_So break my step and relent._   
_Well you forgave and I won't forget._   
_Know what we've seen and him with less._   
_Now in some way shake the excess._

_'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you._   
_And I will wait, I will wait for you._   
_And I will wait, I will wait for you._   
_And I will wait, I will wait for you._

 

Kristoff was singing along now, his deeper tones melding nicely with Elsa's melodic, sultry voice. Jack grinned as his foot tapped to the beat, casting his girlfriend a proud, affectionate glance as she sang. She returned it with a smile; as though the song that they were all taking part in was something she had been waiting a long time for.

 

_Now I'll be bold as well as strong._  
 _And use my head alongside my heart._  
 _So tame my flesh and fix my eyes,_  
 _A tethered mind free from the lies_.

_And I'll kneel down, wait for now.  
I'll kneel down, know my ground._

 

Jack's gaze flicked over to Anna, who surprised them all by no longer covering her ears and screwing her face as though the music was insulting her senses, but was jigging a little more emphatically as she tapped her foot in time with Jack and Kristoff. And she was  _singing_ , too.

 

_Raise my hands, paint my spirit gold.  
And bow my head, keep my heart slow._

_'Cause I will wait, I will wait for you._   
_And I will wait, I will wait for you._   
_And I will wait, I will wait for you._   
_And I will wait I will wait for you._

 

And then, the final strum of Jack's acoustic guitar and Kristoff's brand new banjo heralded the end of the song, followed by enthusiastic clapping from everyone in the room – even from Anna who, despite her earlier dismay and dread at having to hear that song for the fifty-bazillionth time, had enjoyed herself. Jack and Kristoff both rose at the same time to high-five each other, and not two seconds after Jack's butt returned to the sofa had he felt a hand grasp his waistcoat and sharply pull him to the left, and soft lips met his before he even knew what had happened.

"If I get  _that_  kind of applause, I might have to play more often." he teased, once Elsa had released him, eliciting a light giggle and a poke to his ribs.

"Anyway," Thiana announced, casting glances at Nicholas who was still singing under his breath, "if everyone could make their way to the table, it's time for the roast beef!"

"FOOD!" Anna squealed, and with a speed rivalling that of the woman nicknamed Hummingbird she had darted from the sofa, nearly tripping over Kristoff's legs as she ran, and chosen one of the seats facing the kitchen with a proud, victorious expression.

"Ner-ner. First to the table!"

With the collective shaking of heads in amused exasperation, Jack, Kristoff and Elsa rose to their feet and followed the energetic strawberry-blonde to the dining room, passing a giggling Thiana as they did so.

"It's been a long time since I heard that." she mused to Nick, who watched as Kristoff and Anna fought over party hats.

"Indeed, hummingbird. It's like watching a grown-up Sophie." he agreed, turning towards the kitchen counter where the gorgeous-smelling beef sat happily sending tendrils of steam into the air.

"They all look so happy. Its…that's  _my_  Christmas present. A house full of happiness and laughter." she smiled, following Nick into the kitchen as she removed her apron.

"Merry Christmas, my love." Nick smiled, bending to the side to kiss his wife's temple as he carried the huge joint of beef with both hands. Thiana let loose an affectionate giggle, grasping the handle of the hot gravy jug with one hand and the large bowl of mashed potato with the other.

"Merry Christmas, honey. By the way, when should we go to Thailand?"

"I was thinking about tomorrow? Does that agree with you?"

"What about Jack, won't he need you for the change-over?"

"Nah," Nick tried to wave dismissively, but remembered he was still carrying the beef on the way to the door connecting the kitchen to the dining room, "everything has already been taken care of."

Turning on the spot to open the swing-door with his right shoulder, Nick was greeted with gasps and murmurs of  _'oooo'_  from the young guests, and he grinned with pride as he placed the roast beef on the table, Thiana following up with the gravy and mashed potato. It took two more trips, but eventually the large, solid mahogany table was covered in an assortment of delicious culinary accompaniments, including a plate of something called  _bobal'ki_  which as Nick explained were biscuits covered in poppy seed, served with either sweet cabbage or sauerkraut, a traditional Russian Christmas food.

Several minutes later, each plate having been filled to the edge and each guest itching to dig in – Anna in particular was chomping at the bit – Nick poured expensive vodka into six tiny glasses and passed them around.

"Before we take part in this delicious meal that my wife has so expertly cooked for us, I would like to propose a toast. First, to the new CEO of Fractal Fashion, Elsa Snowfield. May your reign live long past the trials you currently face."

Raised glasses and murmurs of  _'hear hear'_  accompanied him, with Elsa flushing pink as she bowed her head a little in respect.

"Second, to my successor as the CEO of North Pole Toy Industries, Jackson Overland. May the elves live long under your reign, providing they stay away from under your feet, and may the company grow under your leadership."

More murmurs of  _'hear hear',_ along with quiet applause.

"And finally, to Anna and Kristoff, and your marriage. May your lives together be filled with hope, joy, and wonder."

"And kids." Thiana added with a bright grin, causing Anna's cheeks to flush a beetroot colour and Kristoff to awkwardly clear his throat. The toast finished, everyone downed their vodka in one gulp, Jack coughing as he forgot just how strong Nick's favourite vodka was.

"Well, come on people! Dig in!" came Thiana's cheery voice, and needing no further encouragement, everyone dived into their meal.

* * *

 

It had been an hour after the last fork was laid down, and Kristoff had collapsed on the three-seater sofa nursing an extremely full stomach. Ignoring the suggestions of his sister-in-law-to-be that he should take it steady, he had asked for seconds and was half-way through his third helping when he finally succumbed to defeat.

Anna was sat with his head on her lap, stroking his hair lovingly while resisting the urge to poke him in the abdomen, to prove the point.

"Can't…move…so…full…" he groaned.

"Elsa did say you should take it easy. I mean, you had one and a half times what everyone else did, and you still had seconds."

"I know…but it was so good…" he whimpered, feeling his stomach throw curses in his direction.

"You're probably not gonna want to hear this," Jack began, as he leaned with his hands on the back of the sofa and smirked at the groaning man sprawled below him, "but dessert's gonna be half an hour. Might want to find some space for the cheesecake."

"Oh God, not more food…" Kristoff lamented, much to Anna's mirth.

"Ayup. By the way, Anna, come over here." Jack gestured to the wide space in front of the fire. Frowning in curiosity, the younger Snowfield rose from the sofa letting her fiancé's head flop down with an annoyed grunt, and watched as Jack slipped his hand into two cushions and held them up toward her like a pair of punching pads.

"What do you want me to do?" she cocked an eyebrow with mild incredulity. Jack smirked and put on his best Brad Pitt.

"I want you to hit me as hard as you can." he announced. Anna's eyes widened and then narrowed, and she pursed her lips.

"Oh, you did  _not_  just go all Tyler Durden on me." she hissed, her lips becoming a cheeky half-smile as she raised her hands, clenching them into fists in front of her and standing with her left foot forward, bouncing between it and her right foot like a boxer.

"Bring it, sister. You ready?"

"I was  _born_  ready." she grinned, and opened with a right jab which Jack caught with his right cushion.

"Yikes, I'm surprised Black had a nose left after  _that_." he raised his eyebrows, impressed.

"Meh, I was holding back just then. Wanna go again?" she grinned, clearly enjoying the start of the sparring session.

"Oh yeah." Jack smirked, bringing the cushions up once more.

With a warm smile, Elsa watched from the kitchen doorway as her boyfriend and her little sister sparred together, watching him catch every punch and occasionally give her a command – like 'right hook', 'left jab', 'uppercut, Anna responding instantly and correctly, each strike true. She got a sense of just how protective Jack was of his late little sister and of Anna, and how her sister was showing just how capable she was of looking after herself.

"Jack and Sophie used to do that," Nick mused, appearing behind her, "he would kneel on the ground and teach her how to defend herself, in case she was bullied at school."

"And was she?"

"No. Sophie was well-liked in her class, so no-one had the heart to make her feel bad. Except for one boy, and I hear his day was ruined with a snowball to the face. Can't think who threw it." Nick chuckled to himself, watching as Jack ducked to avoid a right hook. Elsa giggled lightly to herself…and then the mental note that she made earlier resurfaced.

"Mr St North, may I ask a question?" she asked, craning her head up to meet the gaze of the mountainous man.

"I told you, call me Nick. And of course you may." he answered, smiling.

"How did you learn to balance work with your wife?"

"Ah! Good question. I suppose we should find a place that is more comfortable than the kitchen doorway. Please, come with me." Nick smiled, gesturing toward the door to the dining room. Elsa followed him as he picked up a bottle of mulled wine and two glasses on the way, and passed through another door into his den. The temperature sharply dropped, probably in order to maintain the integrity of the large ice sculpture sitting proudly on a massive table in the dead centre of the room. Sitting in one of the two wooden chairs that were placed next to the table, Elsa took the opposing chair as he filled both glasses with the spicy liquid, collecting his thoughts before he began.

"A lot of CEOs make the mistake of letting the company dominate their day-to-day lives. They involve themselves in the minutiae of the daily routine; attend meetings that do not necessarily require their presence. Some of them even forget to delegate their work, because they either forget that they can hire people to share the load, or because they do not trust anyone else to help. Simply put, the company becomes them. I suspect that this is familiar to you."

Elsa nodded, and felt a dull ache in her heart as she drew her gaze away from the wise pools of Nicholas St North.

"I have seen the disastrous effect it can have on a relationship on two separate occasions. One was Jack's father, Jonathan Overland, who I suspect Jack has told you about."

Elsa nodded for the second time, remembering the almost bitter tones with which Jack spoke.

"And the second time I watched it happen was with a young Agdar Snowfield. Your father."

Nick's words felt like a surprise grand piano falling on Elsa's head. Her eyes widened as her jaw dropped with surprise.

"You…you knew my father?"

"Only as an acquaintance, nothing more. It was about 1996, I believe. Back when I had a full head of black hair! In any case, you would have been about three years old, and I was two years into my leadership of the Pole. I met him at a charity function, and we seemed to get along very well. Unfortunately, the longer he spoke about Fractal Fashion and his involvement within it, the more I saw that he was falling into the same trap that Jonathan Overland did. I remember him being extremely puzzled as to why I made a point of finishing work at seven o'clock every evening."

Nick took sip of his wine while he tried to remember the rest of the first meeting. Elsa stared into her glass, suddenly losing the appetite for the stuff as she circled the rim with a finger.

"I don't know why I did it, but while we talked about our respective businesses, I made an offhand joke about a merger. I even called it the Snowfield and St North Company. Unfortunately, your father did not take it as a joke and outright refused to even consider it. He believed that Fractal Fashion was strong enough to stand on its own two feet, and it needed no-one else to survive. And he was right, in a way. Separately, our companies grew and grew into the premier businesses in our fields...but if we worked together? I do not know."

"In any case, he tired of the function and bade me goodbye to make a pledge before he returned to his company. I stopped him before he left, and I gave him a piece of advice, something that Thiana made me promise to live by, and the same advice I am giving to you now, as I have already given to Jack. Make time for those you love."

Elsa's eyes rose from the glass and fixed themselves upon Nick's wise, yet almost world-weary expression.

"How do…did you run your company?" she asked.

"Me? I cut back on any meetings that did not explicitly require me. Where the products are concerned, I examine the…blueprints…for lack of a better term, and then the final product. For some things, I delegate some tasks to Phil as my right-hand man. I suppose in effect that makes us co-CEOs, but it has worked well so far. Above all, I promote initiative and creativity within the company, which I suppose is why it is so chaotic. For all intents and purposes, the Pole runs itself, while I guide and see to matters that require my interaction."

He leaned forward with his wine glass in both hands, and fixed Elsa with an amused expression and half a smile.

"I suspect that, as an intelligent woman, you have already thought of this."

Elsa felt a smile curl on her lips as she blushed a little pink.

"Yes," she murmured, taken a little off-guard by the compliment, "I want to be able to make it work with Jack. To balance our companies with our love life."

Nick grinned and raised the palms of his hands upwards in a  _'there you have it'_  gesture.

"I have no doubt that the two of you will be able to weather anything that comes your way. On that note, I would like to give you another piece of advice, if I may?"

"Please." Elsa nodded.

"Jack will soon tell you about his plan. Please, at least hear him out, and if you do, remember that Fractal Fashion is no longer your father's company, or Kai's, but yours. Think about it before you give him an answer."

"What do you mean? Why can't you tell me?" she frowned, a little annoyed at the enigmatic 'advice'.

"I am no longer CEO of the Pole, and thus my words carry no weight…and it would be better if it came from Jack himself."

Elsa was about to press for more answers when Thiana's head poked through the door with a mischievous grin on her face.

"Elsa, Nick? You've got to see this."

Rising from their chairs they curiously followed Thiana back to the living room to where Jack and Anna had been sparring, Elsa's shoulders feeling a little heavy and her mind furiously working to solve the cryptic words that Nick had just landed on her.

Anna was no longer sparring with Jack; she had collapsed back onto the three-seater while Kristoff had taken her place, having defeated his stomach for control of his body. Standing side by side, the difference was stark. Kristoff was at least four inches taller than Jack and his bulky, muscular frame dwarfed Jack's slender, agile body.

"You sure?" the barista manager questioned, raising his fists as Jack raised the cushions, fresh from the vicious pummelling they had received from the younger Snowfield sister.

"Yeah, why not." Jack shrugged. Noticing that the room had suddenly become a little more full, his eyes switched from person to person and noticed with curiosity that each face was the same – humorous and almost fearful anticipation. Momentarily confused, his eyes flicked back to Kristoff as the burly man rocked backwards and forwards, his fists ready.

And then Jack realised.

He had challenged someone with nearly twice his size and probably as much strength to a sparring session.

He had barely spoken the first letter of the word  _'Wait!'_  when Kristoff opened with a right jab, sending him flying into the chairs behind him.

* * *

 

"I still can't believe you challenged  _Kristoff_." Elsa teased, as she watched Jack take his right hand from the wheel and flex his fingers a few times to alleviate the aching pain.

"How did I know he was going to hit like a truck?!" Jack retorted.

They were ten minutes away from the Snowfield house, the trunk of the Impala straining dangerously with the sheer amount of unwrapped gifts inside it, forcing Jack to drive a  _lot_  steadier than he usually would.

"Come on, there's a reason no-one picked on him in high school." Elsa giggled.

"Well, I didn't know that, did I? Besides, with him and Anna both asleep back there, he looks like he wouldn't hurt a fly."

Elsa twisted in the passenger seat to look at her sister and brother-in-law-to-be, both dozing peacefully in something that Jack had accurately described as a  _'food coma'_. She smiled as Anna let out a tiny snore and her head flopped onto Kristoff's shoulder.

"Are you heading back to your apartment after?" Elsa asked, her eyes still on Anna as she murmured in her sleep.

"Probably. Was thinking about testing out that coffee machine you gave to me. Which reminds me, is that your way of telling me you're staking your claim?"

"Maybe," Elsa smiled coyly, her bottom lip between her teeth, "but you could always stay with me tonight. Anyway, you still need to tell me about your plan."

Jack frowned at the road ahead, now less than five minutes away. He had completely forgotten about that.

"I thought you didn't want me to ruin the moment?" he muttered, the words edged with a little worry.

"Why, is it bad?" Now Elsa was concerned.

"No, it's not  _bad_ …but it's pretty big. I'm not even sure it's gonna work." he sighed, as they drove up the minor incline that led to the house.

"Alright, well we'll wake up Sleeping Beauty and Rip Van Winkle over there, wait until they go to bed – which will probably be as soon as they get in – and then we can discuss it over coffee." Elsa proposed, jerking her thumb towards Anna and Kristoff respectively. Jack nodded in agreement as he pulled into the space beside her Cadillac in the car port.

She was right. As soon as Jack opened their doors, Anna and Kristoff both murmured something that could be loosely described as  _'we're going to bed…'_  while Elsa opened the front door with her keys. Anna shivered a little on the way inside as, unlike her elder sister, she had not changed back into the casual clothes she had worn beforehand. Elsa didn't expect it any other way; when Anna received a princess costume for her sixth birthday, it was three days before she took it off for it to be washed. She even  _slept_  wearing it.

Elsa was already pulling out two different pods from the cupboard when the sleepy pair murmured a  _'g'night Elsa'_ as they passed her on their way towards Anna's bedroom. Jack was in and out of the house a few more times as he single-handedly retrieved all of the presents bar his from the Impala's trunk, and once he placed the last one on the sofa, Elsa closed and locked the door behind him and gestured to the stool on the breakfast bar, where his Americano was waiting for him. Taking the stool on the opposite side to face her boyfriend, she fixed him with a patient expression as she waited for him to begin.

"Are you sure you wanna know? I mean, I'm not even sure it's gonna work." he asked, brows knitting together as he looked away.

"Yes. If it concerns my company, I have a right to know." Elsa countered.

"I know, it's just-"

"Jack."

"-I know how you feel about your father and the company-" he rambled.

" _Tell me._ "

"A merger,  _alright_?" Jack blurted out, almost snapped. Elsa recoiled a little, taken off-guard by the outburst. Her mouth opened and closed a few times, and seeing the mildly shocked face of his girlfriend, Jack sighed as he placed his forehead in both of his hands, and began to elaborate.

_Now or never, I guess._

"The problem we have at the moment is the  _pass-the-parcel_  game I've got going on with the shell companies is a stop-gap. It's not going to last forever, and even if it could, eventually Black or Southernisle will figure out how to stop it, and we're back to square one. Soon as that happens, it's all over."

Elsa nodded, as the words  _'at least hear him out'_  echoed in her mind.

"If Fractal Fashion and North Pole were to merge…" Jack began.

"…it would render the stock Black has in my company invalid." Elsa finished, following his train of thought.

"Exactly, but that's the other side of the coin. Both of our company names would cease to exist, and that's why I wasn't sure you would go for it. Fractal Fashion is really important to you, and I don't want to take that away from you. That, and I need to actually convince  _our_  shareholders to go for it, but I have a feeling that they might."

"What makes you think that? Merging is a tough thing to do, and our businesses are so different."

"Survival," Jack bluntly stated, not interested in his coffee at all, "we'd be merging to survive. The Pole's shareholders know that there's no guarantee that Black won't come after  _us_  next, and if we don't stop them now, who will?"

What Jack said made sense, even if it seemed a little drastic.

"This is…this is  _big_ , Jack. On the one hand, I've got Black slowly strangling my company, and on the other, the end of the name Fractal Fashion."

"I know. Your father built up the company from scratch, and it's something you're scared of losing."

"I'm not finished. You see, what's going around in my mind is that for years, Fractal Fashion has weathered every storm, has faced every trial and come out victorious, and now we face an enemy that could mean the end of the company name as we know it. And on the other hand, what is possibly our  _only_  way to survive is to  _willingly_  give up the name. It feels like being a child, watching your father lovingly restore an old car for years as a present for when you can drive, and on your first trip you crash it."

Jack reached out a hand and curled his fingers around hers, and was relieved to feel that they tightened around them.

"But the hilarious thing is, I don't have a choice. I either watch all of my employees get fired as Black's flunkies move in, or the name of Fractal Fashion ceases to exist and becomes a part of something else. What would the new company even be called, anyway? What would we do?"

"Well, what both of our companies do now is design and make products, then all the high street companies buy the stuff from us for less than they actually sell it. That's pretty much how we operate, right?" Jack explained, using his hands to simulate the 'products' as they travelled from one side of the breakfast bar to the other.

"Right."

"We'd just be doing that as one company, on a larger scale. Or, instead of having to sub-let units within a department store, we open our own. We can still sell through other retailers like we have been doing, but we mostly cut out the middle-man, if you catch my drift."

Elsa felt a half-smile creep up at this.

"Make our own products, and sell them in our own stores…" she followed his train of thought. She had to admit, she liked that idea. One the reasons that she felt a blossom of pride at Merida's love of the  _Bravery_  dress was that it was one Elsa had designed.

"Bingo. As for the name…I dunno…Fractal Pole? North Fractals?" he offered, thinking up names off the top of his head.

"How about Overland-Snowfield?" Elsa suggested, remembering her prior conversation with Nick. Jack shook his head.

"Nah. Other way around. Snowfield-Overland. Rolls off the tongue better. Anyway, aren't we getting ahead of ourselves? Still don't know if the holders will go for it."

"I suppose that's true. Can I sleep on it at least? I'm still coming to terms with the idea, and what it'll mean for our companies."

"Sure," Jack said, but felt obliged to grimly point out, "but the last person to ask me that was Kai."

"I know! It's just…I kind of need to get used to the idea. I know it seems like the only option, but I'm still trying to convince myself that it's my company now, and I'm the one in charge."

"Fair point. Want me to go, or…?" Jack asked, jerking his thumb back to the front door.

"God, no. You're staying here. After today, and what we've discussed just now…I want to fall asleep with you holding me, is all. I missed it." she declared, the last few words nearly drowning in a yawn.

Less than ten minutes later, Jack was laid on his back in Elsa's bed, with her head nestled on his chest and her braid-free hair flowing down across her body and over his left arm as it held her close to him. In Jack's mind, and his heart, there was no other feeling that could compare to the sensation of Elsa's body against his, her left arm draped along his chest as she traced circular patterns across his scars, her mind lost in thought. He moved his lips over to her forehead and applied a gentle, tender kiss, but was surprised to hear a muffled snicker escape her mouth.

"What?" he asked, curiously.

" _White Knight._ " she answered, biting her smirking lip. Craning her neck up to meet his uncomprehending gaze, she rolled her eyes and explained.

"You're offering to merge your company with mine to stop Black from taking it over. By definition, that is what you will be _._ "

Jack snorted a little, but he couldn't help the warmth and affection burn in his heart.

"Shyeah, like  _you're_  a damsel in distress." he scoffed, earning a rap on his right nipple, making him flinch and quietly yelp.

"I'm not," Elsa smirked once more, "but it doesn't change the fact that if it goes ahead, you would be my  _White Knight._  I kind of like that."

Jack gazed into her cerulean pools, currently losing themselves in his cobalt eyes.

"Me too. Love you, Elsa."

"Love you too, Jack."

* * *

 

Christmas was a season that held little interest for Pritchard Black. It wasn't that he outwardly hated it, though it did mean that in his youth, he had to be around his abusive father for an entire  _day_ , it was that he was totally indifferent to it. As far as he was concerned, it was just a commercial excuse for members of the public to run themselves into debt buying the latest must-have items for loved ones.

Black Advertising, or rather, the companies that it had acquired benefitted from this surge in spending, so by extension the umbrella company reaped the fruits of the smaller companies' labour.

However, his mind was not on the season that was drawing to a close, but the phone-call he had received on his backup smartphone. He recognised the voice radiating from the speaker as one of the two men that did the legwork when it came to blackmailing CEOs and shareholders, possibly the one with the yard-brush moustache.

"Please tell me you have some good news."

_"How's this? We found the broker that purchased Fractal's stock both times. His name's-"_

"I don't care what his name is; I only care about what he knows. Call me when you have something useable."

He ended the call before the man had a chance to protest. The way his father went about business like this was sensible – the less he knew about names, locations or methods, the better. If the company ever found itself on the wrong side of the law – and was caught – then plausible deniability was the order of the day. Provided no-one kept a record of their underhanded dealings, the company was invincible.

Tossing the smartphone onto the desk in front of him, Pritchard flicked through the three photographs that had been recently pushed under his apartment door. Two of them were of Elsa Snowfield with an unknown white-haired man standing outside one of the many supermarkets that lay within Arendelle City. Both of them looked happy, and it sickened Pritchard to the stomach and ignited a burning rage inside his chest.

And for some reason, it brought to mind an old nursery rhyme that his kindergarten teacher used to sing to them, which happened to be one of his favourites, especially as it was the British version. He sang to himself as he gazed upon Elsa's delicate features, a fixated feeling of need in his heart, his voice almost sounding like that of a ghostly boy.

"Ring a ring o' roses, a pocket full of posies. A-tishoo! A-tishoo…"

He tossed the first photograph onto the desk, one of Elsa and the man laughing at something only they could know.

"…we all…"

He tossed the second photograph, which was of them looking at each other with an emotion Pritchard had long lost the taste for.

"…fall…"

The last photograph he threw, more forcefully than the last two, was of Elsa and the man sharing a tender, loving kiss.

"… _down._ "


	28. Pawn Meets Knight

With the Impala parked in his brand new, personal space outside the Pole building at six-thirty on his first day as CEO, Jack remained in the driver's seat for a short time while his mind went over the previous day's events.

Southernisle had stirred from its slumber and, at six o'clock on the morning of the twenty sixth of December, they had leaked the manufactured evidence to the media, and the speed at which it reached national coverage had startled even Jack. In the first hour it was city-wide news, and by ten o'clock it was all over the premier channels.  
  
 _Kai Snowfield forced to resign as CEO under allegations of solicitation._  
 _Ex-CEO of Fractal Fashion faces charges of misconduct and illegal business practice._

The worst reports happened shortly after that.

_Ex-CEO Kai Snowfield under investigation for assault and murder._

Southernisle had gone one step further than they had done before when it came to manipulating the press; they had leaked the picture of the deceased woman and allowed the flames of rumours to fan themselves. Rather than simply be humiliated in front of the entire business sector worldwide, he was now facing criminal charges and possibly a jail sentence.

To say it was hard on the Snowfield sisters was an understatement, especially when reporters had descended on the Snowfield house like vultures picking on a fresh kill.

Elsa however, displayed her fierce loyalty to the company and to Kai's character by standing outside her house before she and Jack travelled to the city centre and stating that:

_"It is my firm belief as the CEO of Fractal Fashion that these ridiculous charges and allegations against Kai Snowfield are false and defamatory, and that he is in no way capable of the crimes that he has been accused of committing. Furthermore, we believe that the release of this evidence has been fabricated by the Black Advertising Corporation and Southernisle and Weselton Partnership in order to tarnish his reputation and integrity, and to better facilitate their hostile takeover of Fractal Fashion. Thank you, and good day."_

After successfully managing to get to Jack's Impala – it had been chosen because his windows were tinted and thus allowed for a degree of privacy – Jack had commented positively on Elsa's chosen statement. Not only did it indicate that the CEO of one of the biggest fashion companies believed the allegations were false, and therefore might garner scepticism regarding the veracity of the reports, but that she had managed to deflect some of the attention onto Black and Southernisle. It was a smokescreen, but if the company of liars and thieves had to busy themselves with attention from the press, it might distract them.

Eager to put the distress of that morning's events to one side, Elsa had insisted on taking Jack to one of the high-end men's fashion stores in the centre of the city, specifically choosing one that stocked some of Fractal Fashion's menswear. She had further insisted that he had to look smart for his first day as the big cheese of the Pole.

"But I always look smart!" Jack had retorted, while Elsa was busy picking out a white business shirt with thin black pinstripes, a navy waistcoat and matching trousers, along with an ice-blue tie.

"You don't know smart until you've worn one of our suits," she had calmly answered, "besides, blue is  _your_  colour. Don't argue with the CEO of a fashion company, Frost. I know my clothes."

Jack didn't argue, and when he had emerged from the dressing room sporting his brand new look, the sudden pink tinge to Elsa's cheeks along with how her lips suddenly parted, told him that her fashion expertise was something he would defer to more often in future.

There was a silver lining to the day, however. Upon returning to the house with his new suit, they were greeted by a manic Anna whose glee was approaching critical mass. She had received an email from Disney informing her that her screenplay was well-received and that they would be in touch in the next day or two to discuss travelling to California, to visit the Walt Disney Animation Studios and realise her dream.

That revelation had done wonders for taking away the distress and uncertainty of the morning.

"You know, when I found out that hers was the winning screenplay," Elsa had mused, partway through designing a new men's clothing line called  _Snowflake_ , "I was concerned that, if she won…"

"…you'd be alone in this house for a while." Jack had finished.

"Yes," she had looked up from the sketches on the breakfast bar, "but with all that's happening, she'll be safer in California."

Jack couldn't help but agree. Anna and Kristoff being away for a week or two meant that there would be two less people to worry about, and after the message that he had received from his godparents indicating that they were on their way to Thailand for a month, it was a blessing that was sorely needed. They were content to fight the battle together, but not if their families were potential candidates for leverage or collateral damage.

Sitting in the car as he checked his phone once more, re-familiarising himself with the morning's itinerary, he wondered how Elsa was doing. She had decided to start her first day ahead of schedule, feeling the need to do  _something_  rather than merely design clothes, to take Nick's advice and figure out a routine as soon as possible before the passing of the torch became official.

Jack's phone buzzed with a new message, and he was beyond pleased to find that it was from Elsa.

_New Message (1) From: Elsa_

_"Hey, just a quick text to say good luck, and I love you. Knock 'em dead! – Elsa x"_

Grinning, he slid his way out of the car clad in his brand new suit, pulling out his pocket-watch from the waistcoat pocket to check the time. Eyes widening, he hurried toward the main entrance of the Pole building and the meeting room within.

_Press conference starts in a minute! Shiiiiiiiit! Can't be late for the first thing on the first day!_

* * *

 

With his father out of the country, the heir to the Black empire felt like less of the pawn that he used to be, more like the king.

"I could get used to this." he smiled to himself.

Pritchard leaned back in the high-backed, contemporary executive chair in his father's office. Or, as he liked to call it, _his_  office. The decoration was cold and clinical; glass desktops and shelving units along with almost…everything…cleaned to the point of fastidious. The lighting was bright and distracting, and it gave Pritchard the distinct impression that it was based on an interrogation chamber, one that had just been freshly cleaned and sanitized. If…or rather… _when_  he took over, he made a mental note to throw out everything in this office and utilise a more wooden look.

The busts, in particular, would have to go. Richard had an obsession with ancient kings and leaders, and his son suspected that he was following their footsteps, with business as his battlefield, employees as his soldiers and money as his weaponry.

The irony was not lost on the Black heir that most of those leaders met untimely ends, or in the case of Xerxes I, bit off more than they could chew. It felt less of a gesture of admiration to have those busts, more like tempting fate.

A shrill ringing burst from the internal telephone on his desk, and snapping his head towards it, he noticed that it was an internal call from the secretary. Pressing the red button and raising the receiver to his ear, he calmly acknowledged the call.

"Yes?"

_"Sorry to disturb you, sir, but I have a call from New York waiting on line one. They say they're with Southern-"_

"Put them through."

_"Y-yes sir. Right away."_

He heard the clunk of a replaced receiver and the click of a line change, and before long the feminine but slightly fearful voice of his secretary was replaced by the gruff tones of – presumably – Yard Brush Moustache.

"What do you have?"

_"Nothing, yet. We're following him to the Stock Exchange. What do you want us to do?"_

"Use your imagination. Call me when you have something, and in future, don't use the company number. Clear?"

He didn't wait for an answer before replacing the receiver, and smiled to himself with the knowledge that so far, all was going to plan. Even the acquisition, despite the missing twenty six percent, was proceeding as normal. Black Advertising had bought another four percent of Fractal Fashion's stock, putting the total at twenty two. One more week and their supermajority amendment was circumvented – they can't vote if they can't reach the required percentage. If it was up to him, Pritchard would have the company stockbrokers buy all of the stock in one go – but Richard's orders were clear, and his son was anxious to avoid anything else that would arouse his father's ire.

His gaze fell upon the huge television sat at the opposite end of the room, and he entertained the idea of seeing whether the business channels heralded anything to do with his father's excursion to Great Britain…or if a fatal accident had befallen him along the way. A plane crash, perhaps? Car accident on the way to Scotland? He should be so lucky.

There were no such reports, but there was one thing that felt like a tonne of bricks dropped on his head. An astounding moment of clarity. He read the headline of the news report before he saw the actual picture, but it all became clear.

_Jackson Overland named as CEO of North Pole._

And there, smirking proudly like he was taunting the Black heir was the white-haired man from the photographs, answering questions and generally looking like an insufferable rodent. The man that earned Elsa Snowfield's love and respect, a gift that Pritchard felt  _he_  should possess.

"Son of a fucking bitch…" he whispered, amazed and incensed that this all happened right under his nose…or did it?

_Hans._

_He lied to me._

Glancing at his watch, he noticed that it was approaching eleven o'clock. He had a board of directors meeting in an hour, undoubtedly to assuage their fears that the claims of Elsa Snowfield were unfounded and baseless, and then he had another meeting with some prospective clients that were interested in utilising the services of their company to advertise their goods across the country. Meetings like that usually took an hour or two for negotiations, but after that his itinerary was relatively clear.

So, he decided that after the client negotiations, he would pay the new CEO of North Pole a visit.

* * *

 

"Miss Snowfield? The design department has some new ideas for you to approve. Would you like me to bring them to your office?"

Elsa's eyes shifted from the reports of Fractal Fashion's stock value to the bright young woman that was waiting patiently on the other side of her desk, along with the report that the acquisition total now stood at twenty two percent. She could use the distraction, however temporary it would be.

"Please." she smiled, and the young woman bounced a little with excitement as she turned toward the frosted glass door, but before she left her eyes fell upon the photograph sat on Elsa's desk.

"You look happy there, Miss Snowfield."

Elsa followed her gaze to the matt silver picture frame, and felt the burn of love in her heart. While they were in the city, Jack had stopped off at a photograph development store, indicating that he wanted one of the pictures he took on Christmas Day for his desk at the Pole. All four of them had been printed, and he had chosen the one where they were both smiling at the camera, whereas Elsa had elected for the third, where Jack was kissing her temple. She felt the hot tingle in the exact place where his lips had met her skin two days ago, and it brought back such warmth as she remembered that night.

"It's because I am, Helen." she concurred affectionately.

"He's cute. Do you think he has a brother?"

"That will be all, Helen." Elsa gave her a pointed smile and gestured with her eyes to the door. Helen blushed a shade of pink and murmured a shy  _'sorry'_ , while Elsa's eyes fell back to the picture, and the conversation they had on the night they returned from Nick's house. The prospective merger and what it would mean for their companies. How Jack was basically offering to end the Pole's name along with Fractal Fashion, and help her to build a bigger, stronger company in their place. One that might be strong enough to resist acquisition. There was no guarantee of that, of course, but whenever she was with him, she felt that the two of them were invincible.

Anna, upon hearing about the proposed idea and being the incurable romantic that she is, described it as almost symbolic.

What sat in Elsa's mind was that time was running out. In one week Black would be able to negate the voting amendment which meant that after next Wednesday, no-one would be able to vote for or against the merger because there wouldn't be enough votes to reach the magic seventy-five percent. They would be trapped.

She had to make a decision, and when she thought of all the things that he was willing to do – and had done – for her, the decision was clear. Act now, or lose the company.

Elsa pulled her smartphone out of her business jacket and hit the speed-dial for Jack's cell. He answered almost instantly, and Elsa could hear the chaos of North Pole before he had even uttered a word.

_"Hey, snowflake. What can I do for you?"_

"Hello, Jack. Have you a moment to talk?"

_"For you? Always."_

Elsa took a moment to clear her mind and organise her thoughts, and then speak the words that would set off a chain of events that had the potential to change both of their lives. The end of Fractal Fashion, but the birth of something new.

"How quickly can you draft a merger proposal?"

She let the words settle, and Jack remained silent on the other end of the phone for a short time. Elsa wondered if something had gone wrong, and her decision had come too late.

"Jack? Are you there?"

 _"Yeah, one second,"_ he murmured, before shouting at someone on his end,  _"Dingle, if you run over my foot one more time, I am going to shove that courier trolley so far up your ass you'll be coughing up memos for a week!"_

Elsa giggled at Jack's muttering of curses, along with the  _'yes sir, sorry sir'_ in the background.

_"I can get a draft done by tomorrow morning at the earliest."_

Elsa raised her eyebrows, impressed.

"Have you already been working on one?" she chuckled.

_"Sort of. I had a schedule-free morning after the press conference for some reason, so Phil and I bounced ideas between us and wrote down the basic skeleton of the proposal. Needed to come up with something to make it appealing to our shareholders and board of directors before we wrote it down. I tell you, I don't know where I'd be without him."_

"You could always tell them that the Pole would be buying my company at a bargain. It's not like our stock value is at an all-time high after the media frenzy yesterday." she muttered self-deprecatingly.

 _"Elsa, that doesn't matter. Even if your stock was ridiculously high, I would still do this for you. I would do_ anything  _for you."_

She had to admit, in a rude and fleeting thought, his words had aroused such a feeling of burning ache and need inside her that he was lucky he wasn't in the room right now; otherwise she would have cleared off her desk and jumped him – such was the explosion of love in her chest.

"Thank you…for being my  _White Knight._ " she murmured into the phone, and heard an almost bashful chuckle in return.

 _"Yeah well, you know what that makes you?"_  he answered.

"What?"

_"My goddamn queen."_

Elsa's cheeks burned with the temperature of the sun and her heart threatened to disappear into a sea of butterflies at his words. Something about Jack seemed to turn her into a giggling schoolgirl, and God did she love him so.

"Right. I'm going to go before I swoon in my own office. I'll schedule a shareholder meeting for tomorrow at three in the afternoon, does that work for you?"

 _"Sorry, what? I was having rude thoughts about a knight and his Queen."_  Jack responded playfully.

"Jack…" she began, sighing but feeling her skin tingle as  _she_  involuntarily had the same thoughts, "dammit, now I am too. I was  _trying_  to say-"

_"Heard you the first time, I just wanted to make you blush. Three is fine. I've got a meeting tomorrow at ten, so I'll run it past them first. No point sending you the draft if they're gonna tell me to fuck off."_

"And blush I did, for which my revenge will be sweet. Anyway, I have to go; the design department has a new line of clothing they want me to approve. When do I see you?"

_"I finish at seven so will be back in the city about eight thirty, provided the elves don't blow up the workshop. My place or yours?"_

"Yours, Jack. I'll order pizza, sound good?"

_"Perfect. See you tonight, Queen Elsa."_

"See you later, Sir Jack."

And with that, she hung up with a grin before he had a chance to protest. Now, they had a plan. He would run the proposal past his directors and shareholders, and if they liked it he would send the proposal over to her. If all went well, they could have a written agreement and contract on New Year's Eve.

A new year, a new company.

Pressing the internal telephone button that summoned her secretary, she pondered why she did that rather than simply rise from the chair and open the door herself. Privacy, quite possibly. Better to discuss things within the office rather than the corridor, where  _anyone_  could be listening.

The secretary poked her head through the door and regarded Elsa with a bemused yet expectant expression.

"You called, Miss Snowfield?" she asked in a slightly shrill tone.

"Yes, could you schedule a shareholder and board of director meeting for tomorrow at three?"

"It shouldn't be a problem, Miss Snowfield. Is there anything you want me to tell them?" she cocked her head, her mildly nosy nature becoming evident.

Elsa thought for a moment. She would have to tell them  _something_ , otherwise they wouldn't show up and  _that_  would be severely problematic. On the other hand, she couldn't say  _"By the way, we have a White Knight who wants to merge with us"_  because if Black were to catch wind of that, then things could be even  _more_  problematic – and judging by yesterday, dangerous.

No, they had to keep it quiet for the time being, until the merger became official…or if.

"Tell them…I may have the answer to all their problems."

* * *

 

Jack tossed the ball to Phil, who was in his office. They had been verbally working out the details of the proposal since Elsa's phone-call at three o'clock, and it was fifteen minutes to four.

"So how does it look so far?" the new CEO asked. Phil tossed the ball up and down a few times as he leaned in from his chair to read the text on his computer screen. It was something that Nick did when he was coming up with ideas for new toys, and wanted to bounce them off the burly, hirsute man in case they sounded ridiculous. It was a 'game' that the co-CEO was fond of.

"Pretty good. Fractal Fashion and North Pole combine to form Snowfield-Overland. Market clothing, toys and kid's clothing to bridge the two. Any brands or merchandise will use both aspects of the merged companies – like  _Olaf the Snowman_ T-shirts along with matching plush toys. Open stores across country." Phil spoke, an almost guttural growl. Had Jack not been used to it, he would be pondering whether he had pissed off the huge man.

"What about within the stores themselves?"

"Usual stuff. Mostly clothing, but one floor with toys and a day-care section for families that want to shop. Stocked with S&O toys, o' course. Top floor for expensive, posh stuff."

"Of course," Jack smirked, "and what about the Fractal shareholders, directors and employees?"

"Shareholders get stock in the new company, just like ours. Bigger board of directors, 'cause there's obviously more people. No-one gets fired, everyone keeps their jobs. Just work under a new name. Simple." Phil finished, tossing the ball back to Jack who caught it with his left hand.

Squeezing the ball in conscious thought, he leaned back into the leather chair and wondered if he should dare entertain the glimmer of hope in his chest. This could work. This could  _actually_  work. Provided the Pole shareholders and directors approve the merger, which stood at  _'likely'_ , Jack and Elsa could be leading one of the largest clothing and toy firms in the country. Possibly strong enough to give Black the middle finger. The stock that the enemy had acquired up to now wouldn't exist because technically, Fractal Fashion wouldn't exist anymore.

Of course, if nothing went wrong between now and then.

"Okay. Email it to me and I'll work on it tonight at home, and finish it in the morning before the meeting. Thanks Phil."

"No problem." he replied, simply. Jack glanced at his cohort, and a half-smile crept up on his face.

"So, how'd I do for my first day?" he asked, curious as to the answer. Phil merely shrugged.

"Not bad, but most CEOs don't propose to merge the company on the first day. That, and the elves are terrified of you."

"Good, maybe they won't try to run everyone over as much. Do you think that's a bad thing? The merger, I mean?" Jack asked, a tone of uncertainty in his voice.

"Didn't say that. Like you said, no reason Black won't come after us next." he said gruffly. That was one thing the new CEO liked about Phil; he was always straightforward and to the point. Assuming you could understand him, of course.

He remembered the day, when he was eight that Nick showed him around the Pole building. Being an incorrigible prankster, the employees were warned ahead of time of young Jack's antics and upon seeing Phil for the first time, the giant man had made his position clear by thumping a fist into an open hand a few times. The young boy got the message  _loud and clear_.

Jack nodded in acknowledgement and understanding, and upon feeling a strong vibration in his trouser pocket he checked the message that had just appeared.

"Huh. Someone's waiting for me in my office." he raised an eyebrow, not expecting this. Phil frowned as it was news to him too.

"You've got no appointments today."

"Yeah, I know. Weird." Jack agreed, sliding the phone back into his pocket as he rose from the chair.

"Want backup?" Phil asked, a little brightly for some reason. Jack suspected that he  _enjoyed_  his intimidating stature, and liked to use it whenever it was necessary.

"Nah, I should be fine. Can you do me a favour, though? Remember my dad's old stockbroker, Manny?"

"Yeah. Short guy. Bald as a coot. Talks like he's spaced out."

"That's the guy. Can you call him and tell him to go to step two? He'll know what it means. Text me when he's got the message."

"Sure. See you later."

* * *

 

Jack had just entered the elevator to his office and pressed the button when he had received a message from Phil, a lot quicker than he had anticipated, and the contents of the message incited a feeling of deep concern and doubt within him, as though someone had placed a hand over his stomach and  _squeezed_.

_"Manny isn't answering on any phone. Will try again later. – Phil"_

He wasn't sure  _what_  to think. On the one hand, he wasn't exactly best friends with Manny and thus didn't know whether his 'going dark' was something that he normally does. On the other…he was the only person outside of Elsa, Kai and Nick that knew Jack was the organiser of the pass-the-parcel shell company game. And he was unreachable.

Jack's only saving grace right now was that he was in control of whether the missing stock went up on the market or not – but should Black ever find out…

He pushed the thought out of his mind. Too much was at stake for him to start worrying.

The elevator doors opened with a  _bing_  and he looked up just as he was about to make an apology for the unknown person that had to wait for him, but then in a strange contradiction he felt his blood simultaneously run cold as well as boil with rage. The man from the alleyway that Anna later identified as-

Pritchard Black sat smugly in Jack's executive chair with his feet on the desk, a matt silver picture frame in his hand as he gazed at it with a mixture of disgust as well as envy.

" _You."_

The Black heir's golden eyes flicked up to the elevator, and his mouth curled into a malicious smirk. It was all Jack could do to stop himself from sprinting to and vaulting over the desk, grab Black by the collar and beat seven shades of hell out of him. It would be  _incredibly_  cathartic, however.

Replacing the frame with the picture facing down into the desk and rising from the chair –  _as though he owned the damn place –_ Pritchard straightened his dark grey business jacket by the lapels and walked, practically swaggered, over to where Jack was clenching and flexing his fingers, trying to resist applying them to Pritchard's nose.

"At last! The new boss of North Pole Toy Industries, Jackson Overland. I am Pritchard Black, acting CEO of Black Advertising Corporation."

Jack said nothing, while Pritchard stared with barely concealed contempt in his eyes. Fishing out a small notebook from the inside of his business jacket, the heir began to read some barely legible writing as he casually walked toward one of the guest chairs – but did not sit.

"Born in 1993 in Burgess to Jonathan and Sarah Overland, brother to Sophie-"

" _You don't get to say her name._ " Jack snarled, but Pritchard was unmoved.

"Godson to Nicholas and Thiana St North. Student at Arendelle College, reputation for violence at two different educational establishments. Saviour of Anna Snowfield's virginity, winner of Elsa Snowfield's affections and…"

 _"You don't get to say her name, either."_  Jack growled, slowly walking toward his executive chair while keeping his gaze firmly fixed on the intruder. Pritchard's eyes snapped up to Jack's. Gold against cobalt. Deepening his smirk, he finished reading the last sentence.

"…last living survivor of the Overland family."

Closing the notebook with a snap, he slid it back into the jacket and held his hands behind his back, mimicking the condescending posture which his father was so very fond of.

"I engaged in some light reading while I was travelling here. It was quite enlightening." Pritchard smiled a hollow, empty smile.

"Congratulations," Jack said, every word dripping with sarcasm, "you can read. Top of the class. What do you want, Black?"

Pritchard's eyes briefly flicked down to the picture frame – a  _'tell'_  which Jack did not miss. Noticing that for a split second, his hand had been shown, the Black heir sauntered around the office and roved his eyes along every inch of it, as though he was in a supermarket and was browsing its wares. Jack was having trouble coping with the seething rage inside his chest, the hot burning that kept telling him to finish what he started on the night of the club. He tried to busy himself with bringing up something on his smartphone, then placed it carefully in the middle of the desk and set it back to standby. The bright screen obediently went blank, and Jack leaned back into his chair, waiting.

"As you are no doubt aware," Pritchard finally spoke as he sauntered back to the desk, his eyes on the crossed sabres behind Jack's head, "my company is in the process of acquiring Fractal Fashion. Someone, however, took it upon themselves to…steal that which was rightfully ours. I don't suppose you know anything about that, do you?"

Jack tried his best to hide the smirk, so he fell upon the icy façade he had relied on for so long prior to meeting Elsa.

"Someone beat Black Advertising to the punch? I'm impressed." he said coolly. Pritchard's eyes snapped back to his and narrowed slightly, before quickly busying himself with perusing the knick knacks on Jack's desk.

"Indeed. I suppose it is just a matter of time until we find out who the mystery buyer is, and then…

The gold eyes met the cobalt once more.

"…I take back what is mine."

Jack rose from his chair and leaned with his fists on the desk, and held Pritchard's gaze for as long as he could, a sort of contest between the two. Elsa would probably scoff and call it a little boy's game of  _'who is tougher'_ , but Jack had to show the Black heir that he was not afraid.

Much as he tried to hide it, he was.

A buzz in Pritchard's pocket alerted him to a message, and though he was extremely reluctant to, he broke the staring contest to pull his phone from his jacket to read the message. Jack didn't like the smirk that crept up onto the heir's face, nor did he like the interested expression as the golden eyes roved over the office one more time.

"I like this place. I think I'll suggest it to Father when he returns from Europe." he taunted. Jack felt the sharp pain of his nails digging into the palms of his hands; such was his resistance to snap Pritchard's neck there and then. The heir merely winked at him, before turning toward the elevator and pressing the button to call it. With a  _bing_  the doors opened, but Pritchard paused. Turning his head back to his white-haired nemesis, he feigned a look of compassion.

"Awful accident to happen to your mother, what with her being a  _majority shareholder_."

Pritchard didn't wait to see Jack's reaction, having entered the lift and hammered the first floor button within two seconds of finishing his false statement of condolence. For this, Jack would later be thankful.

Because to say he was stunned was an understatement.

Jack felt his legs go from under him, and was exceptionally grateful for the presence of his executive chair preventing him from crumpling to the floor as the tidal wave of realisation crashed down. He leaned forward with his elbows on the desk and cupped his face with both hands like a mask, leaving his eyes to stare emptily into the distance.

All he could think about as he struggled to contain the nausea were the faces of Sarah and Sophie, their bodies crumpled in the snow and the sleek, shiny black car as it hurtled away from the collision.

* * *

 

Phil had been halfway through adding the meat to the proposal at about five o'clock when Jack burst in his office.

He had figured that the more he added to the document now, the less Jack would have to do in the morning – and with a temporary truce being held between the Yetis and the Elves he didn't have much else to do.

Technically, he actually had a  _lot_  to do before he clocked off for the night, but he had prioritised the company tasks in order of most important to least, and with everything that was going on as well as the impending deadlines, the proposal definitely ranked at the top.

He had looked up at the new CEO with a mixture of annoyance and surprise, which swiftly changed to curious concern at the look on Jack's face. He knew the young man was usually quite pale, but his skin was never the same colour as his hair, nor did his breathing remind him of a small child hiding under the covers.

It was because of this that he did not call Jack out on his terse tone when he indicated that he needed to go home early, and 'requested' that the proposal be put on a memory stick for him to work on at home. Phil had asked what was wrong but Jack did not answer, merely repeated his request for the memory stick.

Initially hesitant, the burly right-hand-man acceded to Jack's pleas and transferred the proposal file onto a USB stick, and the young man practically snatched it from his hand, muttered a brusque  _'thank you'_  and practically ran out of the room.

Phil wondered what the visitor had done to have Jack so spooked.

* * *

 

Elsa had no idea what Jack's favourite pizza was, so she went for ol' reliable pepperoni.

Pulling in to one of the spaces outside the Winter Apartments, she was nursing the warm thought that she had been looking forward to this all day. They could enjoy a slice of pizza while they talk about their respective first days, all the trials and tribulations that came with them, and she could enquire as to how the proposal was doing. After that, they could snuggle up on his sofa and watch something on the television, or even play  _Infinity_.

To her, it didn't matter  _what_  they did, as long as it was with him.

Ascending the stairs towards his apartment with the box of pizza in one hand, she caressed the newly cut key in her other hand. While the photographs were being developed yesterday, Jack had muttered a flimsy excuse about something, asked her to wait in the store and said that he would be right back. Twenty minutes later, he reappeared in the photograph store toting a brand new key and a proud expression on his face. Elsa had immediately questioned the meaning, and his reply hitched one hell of a smile on her face.

_"It's a key for my apartment, so you can let yourself in whenever you want."_

He didn't add much else to that, but to Elsa the meaning was clear.

Sliding the key in and unlocking the door, her buoyant feelings initially changed to puzzlement when the smell of cooking wafted towards her and through the open doorway. Whatever it was smelled  _good_ , but hadn't they agreed on takeout?

"You know," she said, a little irritably as she closed the door behind her, "if I knew you were cooking I wouldn't have spent money on pizza."

Jack didn't answer, so after tossing her handbag onto his sofa, she followed the sounds of frying echoing from the kitchen, placing the box of pizza on the breakfast bar. What puzzled her even more was that though the pan's contents were happily hissing away, Jack was nowhere to be seen in the kitchen – until she leaned over the breakfast bar and saw him on the floor, slumped against the cupboards.

He was the same position as the night he trashed his apartment, with his legs in an 'A' shape and his elbows on his knees, but his hands were not supporting his head. With the back of his skull resting against the cupboard doors, his eyes were vacantly fixed on an invisible point on the wall.

"Jack? What's wrong?" Elsa asked as she quickly rounded the bar, crouching by his side. Her face now twelve inches from his, she could see the tell-tale redness and swelling in his eyes along with trails of dried tears down his cheeks. Jack slowly shook his head, but Elsa didn't get the feeling that it was a refusal to answer.

"Jack, it's okay, I'm here. Tell me what's wrong, so I can help. Talk to me, Jack." she pressed, her voice almost pleading. She took his hands in hers and traced circles with her thumbs to try and stir his attention. Slowly but surely, Jack shifted his gaze from the fixed point on the wall and towards her eyes, which were staring at him with encouragement. Those cerulean pools that radiated  _'you're safe with me, I love you, please talk to me'._  That pale pink, beautiful face that he had been counting down the minutes until he could lay his eyes upon it, but not like this. He had been looking forward to seeing her smile that brightened up the world, not an expression of deep concern.

"I can't lose you." he croaked, his throat feeling like he had swallowed shards of glass.

"You're not going to, I'm right here. Talk to me; tell me what's making you feel like this? You know I'm not going anywhere, Frost." she smiled supportively at him, trying to coax him out of his shell. Jack slowly shook his head, and the pain and fear in his eyes became  _that_  much more acute.

"You don't understand, Elsa. My mom and sister…it wasn't an accident."

A single tear slid down from his right eye as he gazed like a lost, vulnerable boy into her eyes, trying to draw strength for what he was about to say next. The understanding that had hit him like a runaway train after hearing Pritchard's taunt.

"They were murdered."


	29. They Know (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annie raised a valid question on the last chapter, and this one should hopefully explain the things that didn't sound right.

In the hour or so following the revelation, Jack had been decidedly quiet. His defence system had come roaring back into play, and it stabbed at Elsa's heart to see the impassive expression once more. The cold, empty look in his eyes that they had worked so hard to eradicate. She completely understood why; everything that Jack had believed up to that point about his sister and mother had been a lie, and he found out from one of the worst people imaginable.

Many times the thought had crossed her mind, as she held Jack on the sofa in the warmest, most comforting embrace she could muster, of marching out of the apartment and finding the bastard responsible for making Jack feel that way…and then making him pay. Every time she debated the idea, her body automatically tensed – but as though he knew what she wanted to do, she felt his arms tighten around her just that little bit more.

As if to say  _'please don't leave me, I don't want to be alone'._

And she wouldn't, because she loved him.

She had spoken to him a few times, mostly messages of comfort and reassurance, but each time he had been unresponsive. Until she mentioned that they should go to the police, and get them to reopen the case…and to re-think their stance regarding Kai. That finally got him to speak, but it was almost nihilistic.

"It won't matter." he muttered grimly, as he pulled away from her and slumped back to stare vacantly at a fixed point above his television. For this, Elsa was partly grateful as her arms were aching.

"Why?! Jack, your mother and sister were  _murdered_ , that's definitely grounds to go to the police!" she protested, crossing her legs on the sofa and leaning towards him, trying to understand.

"I know!" he snapped, but as he cast Elsa a sidelong glance and saw her flinch, he softened his demeanour, "I know. Trust me, after all these years thinking it was an accident, thinking that Mom and Sophie just  _happened_  to cross the road at the same time as a car just _happened_  to hit them, I wish there was something I could do about it. Really, I do. But there's nothing I can do right now."

"But why not?" she asked, her voice a little softer.

"I have no proof, for a start. All I have to go on is a vague implication from the acting head of a company that, so far, has managed to keep its hands clean of any wrongdoing. That, and the statute of limitations for a felony DUI ran out. Sure, the charge of murder would render the statute null and void, but how can I prove it? What do you think the police will believe, the 'solved' case of an accident, or the guy who  _thinks_  it's a murder but can't back up his claim?"

Elsa opened her mouth to speak once more, but Jack needed to make her understand. He needed her to know why he was so scared…but not of  _them_.

Of losing her.

"When I was giving my statement to the investigating officer, Gerda I think her name was, I saw a bunch of lawyers just appear out of nowhere and go straight to the captain's office, then to one of the interview rooms. Soon as that happened, Gerda closed her office door and shut her blinds. Few days later, I got the call saying the investigation was being closed 'cause of lack of evidence and treated as an accident. I never saw who did it. I only remember a black car, and I barely saw who the driver was."

"Look, I'm not entirely sure  _how_  Southernisle do it, but I have a few ideas. Bribe a few cops. Find something they can squeeze a detective with, and get them to back off the case. Maybe they even go higher up the chain, donate to a mayor's election drive in exchange for them leaning on the local police captain to bury cases. Hell, no politician wants to have the murder of a family happen in their city, where the perps were connected to a huge law firm that donates to them on a regular basis. It's political suicide."

"That must be why we didn't see any police after they took our statements…" Elsa mused. Jack cocked his head to the side, regarding her with a puzzled expression.

"After you brought Anna to the hospital, two officers came to take our statements. After that, we didn't see anything of them. They didn't even take swabs or fingerprints of Anna. I should have thought of it at the time, but so much happened that night. I asked Anna if she wanted me to call the police precinct, but she just wanted to try and forget that night. She didn't want to relive it." Elsa explained, sadness in her eyes as she looked away. Jack nodded sympathetically, and laced his left fingers with hers in support.

"Southernisle must have found out Pritchard was behind it, and leaned on the cops." he said darkly.

"Is that what happened with Kai?" she asked.

"Probably. Elsa, Southernisle engage in some real  _cloak-and-dagger_  shit. They would have anonymously leaked the photographs to the press, and as soon as the cops got wind of it, all they have are two photographs of Kai with a woman, and one where she's dead. From what I can tell they haven't found the body yet and even if they did, whoever Southernisle or Black sent will know how to clean up after themselves. So the clues that the cops have right now all point to your uncle."

"I can't believe they've gotten away with this for so long. I refuse to believe there is nothing we can do." Elsa sighed, angry at the seemingly powerless position they were in.

"Trust me, I wish there was. But unless someone's been stockpiling evidence behind their backs…the thing is, that's not the only reason I can't do anything right now."

Elsa gave him curious, to which Jack responded by inhaling deeply and, staring into her cerulean pools, spoke with as much conviction as he could muster.

"There's a quote from a movie, about robots fighting aliens or some shit.  _'You see a hurricane coming; you get out of the way. But when you're in a Jaeger, suddenly you can fight the hurricane. You can win.'_ "

He paused for a moment, shifting his gaze down to their entwined fingers as he tightened their embrace.

"That's how you make me feel. Seriously, I'd be freaking out  _way_  more than I am doing right now if you weren't here. I wouldn't be where I am now if it wasn't for…you are the best thing that has happened to me in a  _long_  time and…before you came, whenever I closed my eyes, all I could see was that woman in the photograph, and-"

He very nearly didn't get the last words out; such was the lump in his throat.

"-I can't lose you." he croaked. Elsa's lips parted and she felt her heart break at the fear in his voice.

"Oh Jack…" she whispered, surging forward and wrapping her arms around him in an embrace so tight he thought he was going to suffocate. She feathered her left fingers through the hair on the back of his head, and gripped the waistcoat as tightly as she could.

"I promise," she muttered into his shoulder, "that when this is over, we're going to find a way to bring them down, to make them answer for everything they've done. I don't know how, but we'll do it."

She felt Jack nod gently into her shoulder, and was fairly sure she could feel spots of wetness on her business shirt.

"So, here's what we're going to do. Right now, I'm going to re-heat that pizza. Then we're going to have a look through your proposal, and see if we can finish it tonight. Then…"

She pulled back and locked her eyes with his, and was heartened to see, albeit a little dimmer, that characteristic twinkle start to return. Stroking his right temple with her thumb, she curled her lips into the softest smile she could.

"…we're going to get changed and cuddle up on the sofa, watch some trashy movie. A really bad one, with sharks in tornadoes or something. Does that sound good?"

Her heart skipped a little beat when a smile appeared on Jack's dry lips, his first one since she had arrived over an hour ago. It felt like it had been too long since she had last seen it.

* * *

 

It was a novel concept, having to wake up at four in the morning.

Elsa's presence last night had done wonders for him. Even though he knew he was impotent to act on the discovery, simply knowing that she was there for him and had his back had bolstered his confidence in his ability to deal with whatever came. She was his strength.

And simultaneously, his weakness.

He had hoped to not wake Elsa as well, such was his haste to kill the alarm resounding from his phone at the ungodly hour, but as soon as he turned around and glanced at her with bleary, tired eyes, he instantly felt a little guilty…and a little jealous. There she was, her eyes fluttering open, looking as beautiful as when she laid her weary head to rest…next to Jack who looked like a zombie.

"Morning, Frost." she smiled warmly, sliding her head across the pillows to give him a  _'good morning'_  kiss on his cheekbone.

"Good morning, snowflake. Coffee?" he asked as he rose from the bed, eager to put the coffee machine to use once more. Elsa nodded appreciatively.

"God, yes please," she yawned, covering her mouth as she pushed herself up from the bed, "can I use your shower, too?"

"Sure. Clean towels in the bathroom. I'll go make breakfast. Pancakes?" he suggested, re-adjusting his twisted t-shirt.

"Perfect. See you in a few." she murmured, pecking him on the same cheekbone as she passed him on her way to the bathroom. Jack couldn't help but grin widely and nearly started skipping his way to the kitchen, such was the pleasure of waking up next to Elsa in the morning.

He heard the shower begin to run and partly wished he was in there with her, as opposed to being in the kitchen. Striding over to his sofa as the coffee machine began to gurgle and rumble, he retrieved his laptop from underneath and brought it over to the bar so he could do a few more checks on the proposal while he cooked breakfast. Everything seemed to be in order – after re-heating the pizza last night, they both read through, added and edited where necessary and before they knew it, a proposal fit for consumption was complete.

All that remained was getting it past his company shareholders and board of directors, and that was easier said than done. He did have a trick up his sleeve, but wasn't about to use  _that_  until it became absolutely necessary.

Fifteen minutes later, Elsa re-appeared around the corner by the refrigerator – thankfully  _not_  attempting to make Jack jump as he was busying himself with dishing out the pancakes – and had her head to one side, letting her silky platinum blonde locks cascade down as she dried the last dregs of water with the towel.

"That smells amazing." she smiled as she took a deep inhalation of the pancake-y goodness.

Jack cast a sidelong glance at her while he placed the coffee mugs next to the plates, and smirked as he snickered to himself.

"What?" she asked, squeezing the towel for the last time.

"Even with damp hair and wearing my casual clothes, you still manage to look pretty." he said as he dished out some blueberries, making a mental note to not start a projectile fight with them again.

"Shut up." she teased, whipping him with the damp towel. Jack uttered small yelp as he tried to dodge the 'attack', failing as the end of the towel connected with his right hip.

"Hey! What is this,  _Fifty Shades of Frost?"_  he grumbled, eliciting a coy snigger from his girlfriend.

"You should be so lucky. Anyway," she changed the subject to suppress a smirk, "does everything look good?"

"Always." he winked, parking himself on the closest stool while Elsa rolled her eyes.

"You  _know_  what I mean." she groaned, occupying the other one and busied herself with smothering the pancakes in maple syrup.

"Proposal looks about ready for my guys to see it. Soon as that's done I'll either email it to you, or bring it over personally. It's your call."

"Could you bring it? I'd feel safer knowing that it wasn't flying over the internet, and it might show that we're serious about this venture if you were present at the meeting. Is it  _really_  possible to get it done and signed before Wednesday?" she asked, doubt flitting across her face. Jack shrugged.

"I don't see why not. I mean, most companies tend to fine-tune everything before the actual merger, accounting systems and things like that. For the moment, our companies would just be changing our names." he said, preparing to shove another forkful in his mouth.

_Hah. Just like a marriage. Wait, what?_

"And what you're basically doing is initiating a friendly takeover of my company before Wednesday, and announcing a merger not long after that just so Black can't put a stop to it. It's risky, Jack. Our companies may hate each other."

"Yeah, but they hate Black  _more_. Look, I know it's risky," he agreed, nearly choking as he swallowed too much, too quickly, "but I think we can do it. Besides, as you, Phil and I worked on the proposal, I'm sure there's nothing people will have a hissy fit about."

"I suppose. It's just…the more real it sounds, the more nervous I am." Elsa murmured, twirling the fork between her thumb and forefinger as she stared intently at her pancakes.

"I know." he offered a smile, but a thought from yesterday slipped into the front of his mind like a particularly impatient shopper sneaking into a queue. It reflected in his pale, chiselled features and Elsa noticed it, having chosen that exact moment to glance in his direction.

"You look nervous too, Jack. What's up?" she asked, sipping from her coffee. Jack's eyes flicked around the apartment as his lips parted, trying to make sense of it himself.

"When I bought your shares, I called my dad's old broker to do it. He lives in New York, so it was easy enough. I also told him about my plan, the whole pass-the-parcel thing. He was going to facilitate the whole thing, while I told him when to do it."

"You're talking past tense, Jack. Has something gone wrong?" Elsa frowned. Now she was beginning to worry, given that the forkful of pancakes had paused halfway to her mouth and then returned right back to the plate from whence it came.

"I don't know. I don't even know the guy that well, all I remember was that he's really good at being a broker, and my dad trusted him with everything, and-"

"Jack, you're rambling. What's going on?" Elsa cut him off. She was getting more worried that what Jack was about to say could be very, very troublesome.

"Phil's been trying to call him since four o'clock yesterday afternoon. He said he hasn't been able to get in contact on any of his numbers. Like I said, I don't know the guy that well, so it could be a  _thing_ with him." Jack explained, trying to defuse the rising tension at the end. It didn't really work, and the most troubling part was yet to come.

"Do you think Black has got to him?" Elsa leaned forward, her breathing coming a little deeper as she became  _very_  aware of the beating of her heart. The kind of drumming someone feels when something doesn't feel quite right.

"I don't know. I hope not. I really hope it's just him being weird. According to my mom, he was a bit of a fruitcake…but if they did, it could be bad." he clenched his jaw as he ran a hand down his face, trying to focus.

"He's the only one aside from me, Nicholas and Kai that know it's you that bought the shares…" Elsa concluded. Jack nodded grimly as a flicker of fear shot across his eyes, which disappeared as soon as it came.

"What will they do if they find out?"

"Try to get the twenty six percent, add that to what they have right now, and then wait until Wednesday and  _poof_ , instant controlling interest. Merger becomes useless."

Elsa thought it through. If Black managed to gain a controlling interest, it would mean that even if the shareholders couldn't vote anything through the supermajority amendment, Black could stymie any company decisions no matter how small or big. Defeat the target through their inability to act.

"How would they do that? How did  _you_  do that?" she asked. In the scramble to beat Black's brokers to the punch, it occurred to him that he hadn't actually gone through the specifics of the plan with her.

"I paid to set up a few companies on a secure website. Manny bought the shares for the first company, and it would have carried on like that."

"So they would have to find out your login details for that site to be able to put the shares back on the market for him to acquire? Is your laptop encrypted?" Elsa asked pointedly, quickly sliding off the stool to retrieve her phone from her handbag.

"Well, not really," he grimaced, seeing the point of Elsa's questions, "I only used it for music stuff or college work before Christmas Eve. I'll go find a program."

He turned from his plate of pancakes and began to bring Google up on the internet window, when Elsa held up a hand to stop him.

"I have a better idea. I know someone that might be able to help." she announced, scrolling through her contacts menu. Upon selecting the desired person, she raised the phone to her ear and waited patiently. Soon after, a voice greeted her from the other end of the phone, but Elsa was stood too far away for Jack to make out what the person was saying.

"Agatha? It's Elsa here. Listen, do you by any chance still have the number for Berk Aerospace Systems and Engineering? You do? Great! Could you forward the details to my cell please? Marvellous. Thanks so much. See you in a couple of hours." she hung up, smiling victoriously.

"You're calling an aircraft production company for help with a  _laptop_?" Jack asked, mild incredulity forcing a raised eyebrow. Elsa gave him  _'watch and learn, Frost'._

"No, I'm calling the aircraft company's CEO's son. I went to high school with him, and he was a technological and engineering genius. He once tripled the efficiency of Arendelle High's computer network for a  _science project_."

She checked the time on her phone, and counted forward five hours.

"Nine forty-five in Great Britain. Hiccup should be awake now."

* * *

 

Jack was pacing the Pole's meeting room at eight fifty-five that morning, tapping the USB stick into his left palm. Anxious thoughts raced through his head like a rally car tournament was being held within.

After a brief catch-up with the oddly named 'Hiccup', Elsa had asked him which encryption software was the best to keep Jack's laptop secure. When he had asked what they needed it for, Elsa pretty much explained what they were up against. Not long after she had given Jack's email address to this man, he had received an email from someone called  _dragonrider@base.org_  with an attachment that contained the security program. He had stipulated that someone with Black and Southernisle's resources would eventually be able to break through the encryption with patience and effort, so he would be flying over in something called  _'Toothless'_  and bringing over a new prototype program which he had been itching to test. Nonetheless, he had encouraged Jack to install the new software and keep the laptop with him at all times until he arrived.

Jack was incredibly unsure about trusting this person, but given that Elsa seemed pretty confident in this man's integrity and abilities, he decided to put his suspicions aside for the time being.

Another thought was the apparent disappearance of Manny. He wasn't the linchpin to the hopscotch game of shareholding that Jack had been playing, but given the need for secrecy with the plan and the fact that he was the only one outside of Elsa, Nick and Kai that knew Jack was behind it, the timing of his 'going dark' was incredibly sinister. It left a churning feeling in Jack's gut whenever he thought about it.

And then there was the thought of the impending meeting, due to start in five minutes. The shareholders and board of directors were used to Nicholas and his direction for the company, and while Nick had mentioned their desire for change and 'new blood', Jack was unsure precisely how they would take his plan to buy out, and then merge with Fractal Fashion. The proposal was sound, the idea was sound, but sometimes people can't be predicted.

And speaking of unpredictability, the acting CEO of Black Advertising. Pritchard had done something that neither Jack, nor Richard would do and that was waltz into someone else's company, make veiled threats, openly antagonise the current CEO and basically pretend that he was this year's Draco Malfoy. Arrogance was something that could be predicted, but there was something about Pritchard that Jack didn't like – among many other things. The way he looked at the picture of Elsa, for one…it seemed like he was jealous. He actually struck Jack as being a little bit unstable, and he wondered precisely how many times his father or Southernisle had been forced to clean up after the acting CEO.

He had just turned to retrace his steps back towards the door when it slowly opened, and Phil poked his head through.

"They're on their way. Feeling better today?" came his earth-like rumble.

"Yeah. Sorry about yesterday, I pretty much had the worst news. I'll tell you about it later. Anything on Manny?" Jack asked, first apologetically and then hopeful.

"Yeah, but you're not going to like it." Phil answered, sliding his massive frame through the door and fixing Jack with a grim expression.

"Go on…" Jack sighed, feeling his stomach churn just that little bit more.

"This morning I called a friend that works as a security guard in the Exchange. Turns out Manny left for lunch and never came back, so I found out the number for the concierge of the apartment he lives in, and he never came home last night."

Jack's face paled just a touch, but it was enough for Phil to notice and call him out on it.

"What's going on?" he folded his arms, and gave him an expression of  _'tell me or I will bear hug it out of you'._  Jack sighed, and conscious of the dwindling time before the impending meeting, gave Phil the rundown of what had happened since the twenty fourth. The huge, hirsute man was silent and his expression impassive.

"So, you've basically put yourself in danger to save the company of a girl. Am I getting that right? That was an idiotic thing to do, Jack."

"Phil, I love her…" Jack quietly protested, feeling like he was being lectured by the principal all over again.

"You're still an idiot." he responded gruffly.

"Maybe, but it's the right thing to do." Jack tersely responded, getting a little annoyed at Phil's remark.

"Yeah it is, but I refer you to my previous statement, which was…in case you weren't listening: you're still an idiot." he folded his arms, and his expression became challenging. Jack sighed and scratched the back of his head, trying to look elsewhere but the reprimanding gaze of his colleague.

"However," Phil added, exhaling so deeply Jack felt his hair spontaneously flatten, "Nick obviously thinks your plan was good, otherwise he would have put a stop to it. Or he didn't know that Southernisle would try to find Manny. Either way, you need to be very,  _very_  careful."

"I know-"

"Because it's not just the Pole that I'm worried about, it's  _you._ "

"I know!" Jack snapped, starkly aware of what could happen to him. Phil exhaled through his nose, and both his gaze and voice softened to that of a caring uncle.

"Why did you do it?" he asked, curious rather than interrogatory. Jack sighed, and recalled a particular garment that he had spotted during his and Elsa's shopping trip the day before yesterday.

"There's a phrase on one of Fractal Fashion's  _Olaf the Snowman_  t-shirts.  _'Love is-"_

" _-putting someone else's needs before yours."_  Phil finished, the corners of his mouth hitching his Hell's Angel-style beard. Jack looked up at his face, a good six inches taller than his own.

"I have one of those t-shirts. Fractal Fashion is wise enough to stock things in XXL. I hope you know what you're doing, Jack. This could go south very quick."

"I do…wait,  _you_  own a pink t-shirt?" Jack responded incredulously.

"What are you, the fashion police? Get your ass over to the chair, the suits are coming." he inclined his head backwards towards the door, where a myriad of footsteps were getting closer.

_Show time._

* * *

 

It had taken the best part of an hour, but eventually the 'suits' as Phil had so aptly referred to them had read through the proposal. Jack had become restless in the chair and had chosen to lean against a nearby desk, his cobalt gaze flicking from person to person. Trying to spot any tell-tale expressions, to see if there was anyone who needed more convincing.

The first one to ask a question was a balding man with a bad comb-over of white hair, situated at the very end of the table.

"So, if I am reading this correctly," he asked with a voice that was intended to sound like a judge at a hearing, "what you intend to do is obtain the controlling interest within Fractal Fashion, and then initiate a merger between our two companies whereby the company, stated here as Snowfield-Overland, would manufacture, distribute and market its own goods to the public via its own stores. Thereby reducing the costs of renting areas within current department stores and malls – which as I understand it can be quite expensive. Rather than a toy store chain buying our goods and then selling them to the public at a higher price than they bought our products for, we would eliminate the middle-man and generate increased profit for ourselves."

Jack cast a sidelong glance at Phil who was leaning against the wall, and tried to suppress a chuckle when he caught him roll his eyes and fake a yawn.

"That's right."

"However, it will be expensive to build and maintain our own department stores, no? And I assume that Snowfield-Overland will require a new…base of operations, for lack of a better term?"

"Yeah, it will. But the projected profits should more than meet our overheads, and then some. And for the time being we can work within our separate buildings, and liaise with each other when necessary. I'm pretty sure this is all in the proposal."

"Yes it is, Mr Overland, but it does not answer my next question which is: why should we merge?"

Jack stood and crossed his arms, and fixed the man who, obviously, had not understood a single word of the proposal. He tried to suppress the rising irritation in his voice as all eyes shifted to him.

"Simple. Both of our companies are strong on their own, if we combine our strength we could become one of the biggest toy and clothing companies in the country."

"Indeed, Mr Overland, we  _are_  strong on our own. I do not understand why you believe that a merger would benefit us any more than in our current position, why you think that it is in our best interest."

Murmurs of agreement and assent echoed around the table. Jack cast another sidelong glance at Phil, who nodded almost imperceptibly. In fact, the only sign that he had even moved his head was the slight crinkling of his beard.

"How about survival?" Jack dropped the bomb. The murmurs instantly stopped, and everyone – including Comb-Over – regarded him with a concerned expression.

"What do you mean 'survival'?" came the voice from the man that Jack so desperately wanted to shut up.

"Most of you already know that Black Advertising has initiated a takeover of Fractal Fashion, and within a short time that company will be acquired. Given that their headquarters is in the same city as we are, it's a safe bet that Black will come after  _us_  next. What do you think will happen when they do? Fractal Fashion is a large, well-loved company and even  _that_  doesn't matter. What chance, on our own, do you think we have?" Jack finished, fixing Comb-Over with a challenging glare. The man stiffened in his seat, and tried to re-assert his questioning demeanour.

"There's no guarantee of that." he said, but Jack smiled internally at the mild shaking of his voice.

"What if I told you there was?"

"I would be very interested to hear your proof." Comb-Over folded his arms and met the glare.

Jack half-smirked, and pulled his smartphone out from his trouser pocket. He unlocked the home screen and pressed a microphone icon, then slid it across the table towards the man.

" _I like this place. I think I'll suggest it to Father when he returns from Europe."_

"That," Jack gestured towards the phone, "is a recording from when Pritchard Black, son of Richard Black and currently acting CEO of Black Advertising paid me an unscheduled visit yesterday. He made a few veiled threats but the point is, he as much as said we're next. Before you ask: there's no guarantee that even as a merged company that Black Advertising still won't make an attempt, but the fact remains that our chances are better as a united company than if we were divided."

"What I  _can_  guarantee, is that each of you will remain on the board along with Fractal Fashion's current board of directors, and both of our companies shareholders will be offered stock in Snowfield-Overland."

Jack strode over to the other end of the table and retrieved his phone, eager to kill the sound of Pritchard's voice that was resonating from the speakers. Even mechanically distorted, the oily tones still made him feel ill. He was surprised to see another notification from the reception desk, and the churning of his stomach renewed when it stated that someone was waiting for him in his office.

"Phil and I will leave you to decide, we'll be back in an hour or so." he announced, and Phil pushed himself from the wall to follow Jack out of the room.

"Something wrong?" came the rumble as Jack checked his phone again once the door had closed behind them, and the muffled sound of debate began.

"I don't know. Apparently someone's in my office again. It could be Pritchard." Jack's voice was uncertain, and it had lost the determined, strong tones from the meeting.

"I'm coming with you." Phil announced, and this time Jack did not argue.

Ten minutes later, they were in the elevator on its way up to Jack's office. The shorter CEO had forced himself into the corner, partly because of the anxiety in case it  _was_  Pritchard that had made yet another sneaky foray into Pole territory, but mostly because Phil occupied the vast majority of the elevator space. That being said, he was grateful for the backup.

"Want me to throw him out of the window?" Phil asked noncommittally.

"From this height, it'd probably kill him. Not that it would be a bad thing, but I guess I have 'responsibilities' now, I can't go around making the world a better place just yet." Jack grumbled cynically.

"Meh, it'd be me that did it. I'd probably get fired and arrested, but if it meant getting rid of that little twerp, I can think of worse ways to go." Phil shrugged, prompting a chuckle from his colleague.

"And then who would take care of Vanessa?" Jack smirked, his eyes resting on the back of Phil's long, hairy head.

"My Harley? One of the guys at the bar, probably." He shrugged once more. Jack shook his head, amused that he and Phil had reached the working relationship where they were almost seriously contemplating righteous violence.

"Party time." Phil grunted as the elevator dial reached the top floor, and Jack automatically tensed as his face became impassive. When the doors uttered their customary  _bing_ , Phil was the one who strode out first while indicating for Jack to wait – not that he had a choice as there was no way to get past the bulky frame of his colleague-slash-bodyguard. It wasn't until he heard Phil speak something that he was  _not_  expecting that he too left the elevator, a frown replacing the stony expression.

"Wow, someone who has more hair than I do." he grunted with surprise.

Jack moved to Phil's side, and immediately gasped with shock and more than a little excitement.

"Holy shit! Merida?!"

The flame-haired Scot whirled around from staring out of the windows, and a wide beam reached the bangs of curls framing both sides of her buoyant features.

"Jacky-boooooy!"

Both friends strode over to each other, and Merida wrapped her arms around Jack's shoulders, squeezing him with a hug that lasted for ages. Jack rapped her back a few times, realising just how much he had missed the company of his best friend. Finally being able to pull away, he looked her up and down with a bright grin.

She wore a teal, off the shoulder long-sleeved top with emerald skinny jeans and befitting her tom-boy, Scottish badass personality, wore lace-up tan ankle boots that almost resembled combat boots, and her fiery, unrepentant hair had temporarily been talked into a loose ponytail. A long, tan brown handbag hung from her left shoulder and draped across her torso.

"Jeez Mer, you look awesome! I thought you weren't coming for another week?"

"Och, ye dinnae look so bad yerself. Ay, Mam sent me over early. I'll tell ye about it later. Fer now, what's this about ye being the big cheese o' tha Pole? I'm impressed, Jacky-boy. Ne'er thought ye'd amount ta anything, ya layabout!"

"Thanks, Mer. Always a pleasure," he rolled his eyes sarcastically, prompting a snigger, "Nick retired a few days ago, put me in charge."

"And ye've nae burned tha place down yet? I'm shocked."

A clearing of the throat behind them turned their attention, and Jack realised that he had completely forgotten someone in the room, surprising as it was. Phil's eyebrows rose in a manner as if to say  _'Hello?'_.

"Oh shit, sorry. Merida, this is Phil. He's ma… _my_  right-hand-man. Phil, this is Merida DunBroch."

She strode over to the mountain and offered her hand, which he emphatically shook to the point that she nearly lost her wrist.

"Pleased ta meet ye." she smiled, craning her neck up to meet his gaze.

"Likewise. I'm a massive, massive fan of your whisky." he grinned, and Jack could swear he sounded almost child-like.

"Wait…are you fanboying, Phil?" he said, mildly incredulous. Phil shifted his eyes over and scowled.

"What if 'e is? Tha man has taste." Merida jokingly reprimanded.

" _Thank you._ " he smiled, finally allowing her to remove her hand – and nurse her wrist.

"Hey, I do too!" Jack offered a little indignantly.

"Yeah, but ye dinnae count, lad. DunBroch whisky's only fer those wi'  _refined_  tastes." she smirked teasingly at him. Phil sucked in a breath, his way of saying  _'oh snap!'_  at the merciless burn.

"I like her. She can take over your job." he declared, and Merida's smirk became a smug grin.

"Oh, so that's how it is?" Jack raised his eyebrows, pursing his lips into a half-smile.

"Och, come off it Jacky-Boy. We're only messin'. Anyway, wha's goin' on? I was surprised ta see ye weren't at yer desk."

Jack felt the thump of realisation hit the back of his head and glanced at Phil who mimicked the blank expression. He pulled the pocket watch out of his waistcoat and raised his eyebrows at the time.

"We just proposed a merger with Elsa's company, actually. We left the holders and directors to stew a bit, and we've got to go and find out what they decided. You can come if you want." he said, inclining his head towards the elevator doors. Merida nodded and accompanied him inside the elevator.

"Ay, sounds like fun. How come yer mergin' anyway?" she frowned curiously.

"Few reasons, but one of them is so we can get this guy Black to get his dirty fingers out of her company."

Merida noticeably stiffened and her frown became a dark scowl, and Jack could hear the leather strap of her bag crinkle under clenched fists.

"You okay, Mer?" he asked as they backed up against the elevator wall to allow Phil to enter.

"Some wanker called Richard Black gave me mam a letter of intent to acquire yesterday."

* * *

 

" _They agreed to the proposal. I'm on my way over, and bringing a friend. Should arrive around 2-ish. – Jack x"_

Given that, surrounded by employees, Elsa had been in the middle of deciding which line of ladies clothing to go for – one featuring cute little owls or another that was based on the season of spring, she had to mentally stop herself from punching the air in victory upon receiving the text. Instead, she had settled for a subtle fist-pump.

At about one fifty-five she was at her desk, responding enigmatically to a few emails sent by members of the board. As much as she would have loved to say  _'we've got a way out'_  she held herself back, choosing instead to remind them about the meeting and that everything would be explained then.

Having said that, as the Pole was essentially acquiring Fractal Fashion in a friendly takeover – thus keeping her board of directors and shareholders intact – and then working out the details of a merger later, what was stopping her? Why couldn't she give them the good news right now?

Oh, how she wished she could…but she didn't want anything to go wrong – and a great many things could if Black or Southernisle were somehow to get wind of the friendly takeover.

A rapid  _tap-taptap-tap_ at her office door alerted her attention, and without looking up she called for the visitor to enter.

"Excuse me, I'm looking for the boss of this joint. She's yay-high, has this French braid and for some strange reason seems to find me attractive and no, I don't have an appointment."

Elsa closed her eyes and let an amused chuckle escape her lips, and then when she re-opened them she saw a familiar face poking through the open door.

"Hello, Jack." Her voice was soft, like the touch of a butterfly on skin.

She rose from her chair and met Jack as he stepped through the doorway with a warm,  _really-happy-to-see-you_ hug. Jack closed his eyes as he let the scent of her perfume caress his senses.

"No problems getting here?" she asked, once they had pulled away and smiled into his eyes. Jack grinned as he shook his head.

"Nah, and even if there were, I've got someone looking out for me."

He stood to the side and Elsa's eyes widened with a smile of recognition as Merida grinned and gave her a vigorous wave.

"Miss DunBroch! I didn't expect you so soon!" Elsa quietly exclaimed – loudness was usually her sister's forte. Merida shrugged.

"Ma mammy pushed ma flight ahead a wee bit. I tell ye, tryin' ta get through tha TSA as a Scot was hilarious.  _'Anythin' ta declare?_ Yeah, ma fist if ye keep askin' me ta repeat maself cause ye didnae understand me tha first time!"

Jack and Elsa both broke into laughter, prompting a puzzled look from Merida. Obviously the trials of her arrival were not a laughing matter.

"Oh, I forgot," Jack realised, fishing out a USB stick from his pocket and handing it to Elsa, "here. Everything you need."

Elsa beamed as she took the device from Jack, letting her fingers linger on his hands, and then strode over to her computer. Quick as a flash, she opened the file and the nearby printer clunked and whirred into action.

"Why did your mother bring your visit forward, if I'm not being too nosy?" Elsa asked, curiosity adorning her elegant features.

"Some prick named Black jus' gave us a letter o' intent. Says we'll be tha first European company ta join tha Black family. Mammy politely told him ta fuck off, but she sent me over early ta see if there was anythin' I could find out from yer end of the pond."

Elsa glanced at Jack, who nodded grimly. Intent to acquire.

"Son of a-" she began, but the Scot finished.

"Yep. Anyway, ma flight set off at five in tha morning from Edinburgh, so I'm a wee bit jetlagged. Actually, I'm a  _lot_  jetlagged, I didnae sleep well on tha flight, so there's nae much I can do at tha moment. Recommend any good hotels?"

"Well, there's the-" Jack began, but Elsa interrupted.

"You're welcome to stay in my house, I've got three spare bedrooms." she offered. Merida flinched a little in surprise.

"Are ye sure, lass? Ye've only just met me." she frowned. Elsa waved a dismissive hand as she re-loaded the printer with more paper.

"Of course I'm sure. If Jack likes you, then so do I. Besides, I want to hear all about the  _Burgess Heartbreaker._ " she smirked, casting a teasing glance at her boyfriend who groaned as he rolled his eyes.

"That was a  _long_  time ago, Elsa. Besides, do you  _really_  think Merida will get any sleep with Anna around?" he said pointedly.

"It's alright. I'll give her a heads up that you're coming, and warn her not to disturb you. It would be in her best interests, as I hear you had quite the reputation in high school."

Merida grinned and cracked her knuckles.

"A reputation well-earned, lassie. Thanks, I'll take ye up on that. Cannae argue with savin' money after all."

Elsa beamed, and picked up her phone from the desk when it rattled the glass with a message.

"It's Hiccup. He says he's on his way, and should be with us at five o'clock our time. Do you have your laptop, Jack?"

"Phil's looking after it. He figured that it was safer with him, 'cause no-one's gonna mess with a six-foot-six biker. What I'll do is drop Merida and her luggage off at yours, then go and grab it from him. Mer, you okay to hang around until Elsa's meeting is done?"

"Ay, can do. Mammy's been tellin' me I need ta start learnin' how ta run a company. I warn ye, though, I might fall asleep."

* * *

 

Pritchard sat at his father's desk perusing a set of photographs that Hans had emailed over to him.

After his visit to the North Pole building, he had swung by Hans's apartment with the intention of hearing his 'minion' explain precisely why he had not been made aware of Jackson Overland's identity before yesterday. Flinging Hans around his own apartment felt extremely good, and Pritchard got a kick out of seeing the fear in his eyes…but on occasion he had seen something he did  _not_  like – indignant anger. That particular expression had disappeared as soon as it came, but in the many years that Pritchard had known Hans, he had never displayed it before.

Upon being handed the thick folder of Jacks, Pritchard was surprised to see that Hans had been telling the truth…or had hidden the lie very well.

"What are you planning, Mr Overland…" he muttered to himself as he scanned the picture of Jack and a woman with disobedient red curls exiting his car outside the Fractal Fashion building. Why would the head of a completely different company be visiting during business hours? Unless it  _was_  something to do with business.

Unless…

"Mr Black? Two men from Southernisle are here to see you, and your appointment with the Duke is in fifteen minutes."

Pritchard slowly raised his eyes and fixed the secretary with a look, gold boring into hazel. After what – to her – felt like an eternity, he nodded slowly. She turned on her feet and hurriedly left the room, and a few seconds later two men pushed the door open. Sideburns and Yard-Brush.

"Gentlemen! I trust your trip to New York was productive?"

Sideburns cast Yard-Brush a sidelong glance, and they both sat in the two chairs directly opposite Pritchard. They both had a gaze of distrust and uncertainty, but not of their roles and missions. The heir swiftly rose from his seat and poked his head through the doorway, and muttered something to the secretary, possibly heavily suggesting that she should 'go and get a coffee'. Making sure the door was closed behind him, he returned to his seat and fixed the two men with an expectant look.

"Well?"

Yard-Brush re-adjusted his position, took a deep inhalation through his nose and prepared to speak.

"We snatched the broker shortly after he left the Exchange. It took us a while, but we found out what you wanted to know." he spoke in a baritone voice. Sideburns cast him another glance, and then returned his gaze to Pritchard, completely silent.

"And?"

"The first purchase was made by Nicholas St North."

"Excellent, then that is who you will visit-" Pritchard began, but his almost gleeful expression snapped into a scowl when Yard-Brush interrupted him.

"He's not in the country. He is in Thailand, and we aren't allowed outside American borders."

Pritchard's scowl deepened and his jaw clenched in anger. The pencil he was holding at the time threatened to snap under the fierce pressure of his thumb.

"However, we found out who the broker was working for. Does the name Jackson Overland mean anything to you?"

_Snap._

" _Yes._ " Pritchard growled, and the two men could almost hear the gnashing of teeth.

"He was the one that had the broker buy the stock on behalf of a shell company, with the plan of shifting it around so you couldn't get to it. From what we can tell, he used a secure website to set up the companies."

"So? Get the stock from the shell company then." Pritchard replied irritably. His father was the one that cared about methods, but the heir was not concerned with that. He wanted  _results_.

"How? The login details are probably encrypted, and only accessible from whatever computer he used."

"I don't know," Pritchard snapped, raising his arms to the sky as though he was the only 'intelligent' person in the room, "obtain his computer somehow and use your oh so limitless Southernisle resources to break it. Whatever you do, I want it done tonight. Call me when it's done."

Sideburns narrowed his eyes a small margin, internally debating whether or not they should 'take him out' for being such an insolent little boy. He caught the glance of his compatriot, who imperceptibly shook his head. Rising from the chair, Sideburns' right hand had just curled around the door handle when Pritchard spoke once more.

"This broker, there's no way that what you did will come back to haunt us, is there?"

Sideburns shook his head.

"History of cardiac problems. Police won't suspect anything beyond a heart attack." he spoke in an empty, almost robotic voice. With that, they exited the room without waiting for a reply, leaving Pritchard to gaze after them in thought.

The men were good at their job, no doubt about it. Exceedingly good. The woman that was used to entrap Kai was disposed of with meticulous care – no fingerprints were left as they always used gloves, and they had even gone to the trouble of planting evidence that linked her to Kai Snowfield. All in all, a neatly tied up affair. Any cops that questioned exactly  _why_  it was so neat, well, they had methods of dealing with that.

The door burst open, jarring Pritchard from his thoughts, and with an irritated expression he glared at the newcomer.

"Weaseltown." was the curt greeting.

"Weselton!" came the slightly high-pitched reply.

Pritchard's visitor was none other than Julian K Weselton, known to his employees as the Duke. He was the partner of the Southernisle and Weselton law firm, and the man that Richard often deferred to for matters that required subtle, underhanded dealings. He was famous for his large circular glasses, early nineteenth century British moustache…and though no-one would ever mention it, an ill-fitting toupee.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit, Duke?" Pritchard softened his growl, and leaned back into the leather executive chair.

"The apple has fallen far from the tree, Mr Black. You are not your father's son." the Duke stated, upon resting himself on the chair recently vacated by Sideburns.

"Excuse me?" Pritchard scowled, no longer at ease but leaning forward with his fingers laced together on the desk, fixing the older man with a glare.

"Mr Black, if I am honest, I am surprised that you were left in charge of the company. You do not possess the business acumen of your father, nor do you possess the temperament. In fact, you are more like a spoiled boy thrust into responsibility. Your partners at Southernisle and Weselton are concerned about your role, and the potential damage that you may cause to both of our companies."

Pritchard said nothing, but what burned in his chest was self-important rage. The Duke was  _insulting_  him, implying that he had no business knowledge whatsoever. And the worst part was he was comparing him to his  _father_.

"We are, frankly, growing tired of cleaning up your messes. Your attempted rape of Anna Snowfield, for one, and asking my men to dispose of the prostitute was not the agreed plan…and don't even get me started on using your 'friendship' with Hans to have him photograph the body. Southernisle and Weselton are  _proactive_ , not  _reactive_."

"It worked, didn't it? Kai Snowfield is out of the picture as the CEO, and nothing is more damaging to a company than its head being 'guilty' of murder. Besides, she was a loose end." Pritchard hissed indignantly.

"Be that as it may, my men are  _not_  your personal hit-men. Rest assured, Mr Black, we will be monitoring your behaviour over the next few days, and if anything should happen that we do not like, we will be contacting your father."

The Duke rose from his chair, unsure of whether he had made his point clear. Judging by the ill-concealed expression of anger on the young heir's face, it was as clear as crystal. Striding purposefully to the door and lacing his slender fingers around the handle, he paused to offer yet another insight.

"One of the first things I read about you, Pritchard, was your psychiatric evaluation from when you were sixteen. You are  _not_  balanced enough to be in that chair."

The Duke exited the room, and he hadn't taken three steps when a loud  _bang_  resonated from the door, making the recently returned secretary jump out of her skin…which was a usual occurrence in her daily life.

Pritchard stood, barely aware of the shattered porcelain bust strewn all over the floor from when it had impacted the door. His breathing came deep and heavy, and almost exclusively through his nose. His jaw was clenched to the point that the nerves in his teeth were screaming at him to stop.

"Not balanced enough?" he hissed to himself, enraged at the Duke's impertinence, his brazen lack of respect for, as Pritchard saw it, his equal.

_After tonight, I'll show him._

_I'll show them all._

 

_to be continued..._


	30. They Know (Part Two)

Elsa was having a moment of fastidiousness in the minutes prior to the meeting.

It had to be about the tenth time she had adjusted, re-adjusted and then  _re-_ re-adjusted the positions of the proposals, which had been placed in advance. Each chair was correctly and meticulously arranged, so nothing looked out of place. It was getting to the point that Jack was jokingly considering calling off the meeting, as Elsa's ministrations would undoubtedly be undone by the arrival of the directors and shareholders.

"Ye missed a spot." Merida had teased, but the sudden flash of worry in Elsa's face upon hearing the remark had prompted a sharp elbow from Jack in the fiery Scot's ribs. Naturally, she retaliated with a punch to his upper arm.

Wincing as he rubbed the point of impact to soothe the pain, he calmly walked over to his girlfriend and held her upper arms. Interrupted from her task, she stroked her left forearm anxiously and stared intently to the left at the perfectly placed documents laid out on the meeting room table.

"Elsa, calm down. Seriously, you're acting like a bride a few hours before her wedding!"

She let out a nervous laugh, but didn't know whether it was due to the context of Jack's remark or not.

"Would it help if I got naked? Make the whole  _'imagine the audience without their clothes on'_  thing literal?"

Elsa blushed a shocking pink and her eyes snapped to Jack's, and upon seeing the mirthful twinkle in his eyes along with the half-smirk, she snorted into genuine laughter. Jack pulled her close and held her tightly, feeling her body convulse with giggles as she rested her left cheek on his shoulder.

"I think I'll be alright," she murmured, once the mirth had subsided enough, "for one, Merida's here and I don't think she'd appreciate it. Two, only I get to see you naked."

Jack snickered under his breath and, as he pulled away, planted a quick, delicate kiss on her forehead. Merida scratched her head and decided to busy herself with  _Angry Birds_  on her phone upon seeing the public display of affection.

"There's the Elsa I know and love." he grinned. Elsa rolled her eyes, the pink tinge to her cheeks still remaining.

"Sorry. I'm just…I'm just really nervous about this." she sighed, fiddling with his ice-blue tie to take the edge off her trepidation.

"I know. Look, if push comes to shove, we'll let Merida loose on them. How 'bout it, Mer?" he said loudly, inclining his face to the Scot who was leaning against the meeting room table.

"I dinnae think knockin' yer directors an' holders out is a good way ta do business, but I'm always up fer a wee bit o' fisticuffs." she responded without looking up, cursing as her yellow bird missed the last green pig.

"Och, come on! I've been stuck on this level fer days!" she hissed, restraining herself from throwing her phone out of the window. Elsa and Jack both suppressed a snort of laughter.

"See?" he smiled, moving a strand of hair from her forehead to reunite it with its brethren, "ye've got nothin' ta worry about."

"I heard that," Merida reprimanded, "remember wha' happened tha last time some wanker tried ta copy me accent?"

Jack smirked, looking above Elsa's head with a faraway expression in his eyes. She couldn't help but giggle at the banter between the friends.

"I've been meaning to ask, actually, how did you two become friends?" she enquired, noticing the amused glances exchanged between the two. Jack opened his mouth to answer, but cocked his head to the left as he heard footsteps coming towards the meeting room door. Merida quickly pushed off from the table and moved over to the nearby floor-to-ceiling windows, reassuming her casual leaning against them instead.

"Tell you later," he said, placing a supportive kiss on her cheek and standing to her side, "here's where the fun begins."

Elsa nodded and endeavoured to make sure her business suit was straight and correct, and as she took a calming breath in through her nose and out of her mouth, recently spoken words sailed through her mind like a lazy yacht on a still lake.

_You're acting like a bride a few hours before her wedding._

She wondered if it was those words that caused the newly formed butterflies in her stomach.

* * *

 

Evidently the board members and the shareholders of Fractal Fashion were quicker readers than those of the Pole. That, or they just skimmed over everything and went for the  _'too long; didn't read lol'_ approach.

Either way, the period of silence between the first page and the last was agonising for the young CEO. A few times she had glanced at her boyfriend, who was leaning with his arms crossed against a nearby desk. She wondered how he appeared so cool under pressure, but on the occasion that their eyes met she found her answer. He was equally as nervous as she was – he was just better at hiding it. Years of practice, she surmised.

Merida, however, was unconcerned with the meeting and still banging her head against the same  _damn_  level of  _Angry Birds_ , and a couple of times Elsa had to stifle a snigger whenever she heard a whispered curse from the Scottish redhead.

After what felt like an eternity, the final sheet of paper had been finished and Elsa stiffened, awaiting the first volley of questions. Jack had pushed himself from the table and stood beside her – given that it was the Pole's proposal, it made sense that he should be by her side.

Obviously, not just for the meeting.

"First things first," began a woman that sat closest to where the CEOs were stood, "the proposal looks sound, Mr Overland. It seems that every eventuality or option has been looked at and solved."

Elsa could feel a 'but' coming.

"But we still have a few questions." the woman finished, leaning back into her chair and fixing Jack with an expectant expression. Jack couldn't help but feel a flash of irritation; they should be fielding the questions to Elsa as their CEO, not him. After all, she had read through and approved the proposal.

"I thought you would." he said, a little dryly.

"What happens to us after you acquire Fractal Fashion? Do we still keep our jobs, or do we lose them upon selling our stock to your company?"

Jack dipped his head in an exasperated manner, and Elsa could hear him mutter  _'does anyone know how to read these days'_ under his breath. So, she took the floor.

"As it was stated in the proposal in front of you, under the Pole you would all keep your jobs regardless of who owned the stock. Mr Overland is not in the business of ousting board members in a friendly takeover. He is  _not_  Mr Black."

There was an outbreak of quiet murmurs and nervous glances among the room. Evidently the events surrounding Kai along with Black's method of obtaining shares cast a long shadow. Some faces even paled slightly, while fingers fidgeted anxiously with the proposal sheets.

"It is…interesting you should mention him," the woman began once more, her gaze flitting between Jack and Elsa, "as I understand it, currently Black owns forty eight percent of our stock and, come Wednesday, he will own fifty-two thereby gaining the controlling interest. Even if we were to sell our remaining stock to you and give  _you_  the controlling interest of our company, the fact that we would not be able to vote on anything via Agdar's supermajority amendment renders your 'friendly takeover' moot, does it not?"

It was probably a show of solidarity, that or Jack and Elsa were on exactly the same wavelength, but they both glanced and flashed each other exactly the same smirk.

"Funny you should mention that…" Jack began.

"…but Black only owns twenty two percent." Elsa finished, folding her arms and relishing in the wide-eyed looks of surprise coming from each member.

"I…I'm sorry, could you explain?" came another question, this one from a middle-aged man with auburn hair somewhere near the back.

"When Black's brokers initiated their own mini- _Dawn Raid_ , my godfather and ex-CEO of the Pole initiated his own, and managed to beat Black to the punch for most of Kai's stock." Jack answered, leaving the rest open for Elsa to fill in.

"Not long after that, I visited Mr Bennett and convinced him to sell his shares to Mr Overland, who put the combined total of  _twenty six percent_  into a shell company, thereby delaying Black's circumvention of the supermajority amendment. As it stands, Mr Overland ostensibly already owns a quarter of our stock."

Smirking, Jack straightened his waistcoat, and then marched straight over to one of the empty chairs near the other end of the table. Puzzled expressions on uncomprehending heads followed him as he plonked himself down on one of the chairs and casually leaned back.

"Means I'm the majority shareholder in your company, and I can vote. Oh, and your amendment is protected." he winked, trying to suppress the  _ner-ner_ expression threatening to occupy his face. He had to admit, teasing the 'suits' was turning out to be so much  _fun_.

"But…your father's stipulation-" the woman began, but Elsa raised a hand to interrupt.

"My father's way is dying, Jeanette, it started to die as soon as Richard Black made the toe-hold purchase. The absorption of Fractal Fashion into the Black company is the logical conclusion if we were to carry on as before."

Jeanette straightened and began to open her mouth, but Elsa was quicker. She opted for the Anna approach – blunt as a sledgehammer.

"Let me be clear. What will happen if Black takes over my company – yes,  _my_  company, is that every single one of you will be fired. He will hire a new board to replace you. Once that happens, everything we have worked towards, like catering to any and all sizes and tastes of men, women and children will be for nothing. I can't even guarantee that our employees will retain their roles within our family."

"The definition of a CEO is to steer the company in a direction, one that benefits the company as a whole. Rest assured – the  _only_  way for this company to survive is to accept the proposal of the Pole. If I must, I will put it in simpler terms: would you prefer the name of Fractal Fashion to be kept but lose our jobs, or lose the name and become a part of something greater. Become part of a family, where we can continue to create amazing things for the public to wear, and be here to see it happen."

Unseen by everyone except Elsa, Jack raised the back of his right hand to his forehead and placed his left hand on his heart, and pretended to swoon. Elsa had to dip her head to hide the amused smile on her face.

"Forgive me, Miss Snowfield, but we are unsure. What stops Black from coming after us regardless? He has already sent blackmail threats to us…and when Kai sold his stock…" the woman asked, evidently needing further convincing. An exasperated groan from the end of the table swivelled each head towards the source, who currently had his face buried into his hands.

"Oh for crying out…here's the deal," Jack started, getting a little annoyed, "if you sold the shares to us, that means Black has no reason to blackmail you. If anything, the Pole will be taking the flak – which you should know given that they already signed the proposal. This is a win-win for Fractal Fashion…you get to keep your jobs and do what you've always done, while we take the heat."

The directors all stared at Jack for a time, silenced by the minor outburst. Evidently things were done differently at the Pole, for him to snap so brazenly. Finally, Jeanette spoke once more, but her voice was soft and curious.

"Why are you doing this, Mr Overland? What is your motivation to acquire us?"

Jack studied her for a moment, his gaze occasionally flicking up to Elsa who wore an expression of sincere curiosity as she awaited his answer. Finally, he turned his sight towards the proposal as he stood, jerking the waistcoat down as he chose his next words carefully.

"I spent three years standing by as company after company was taken over. I'm not doing that again. You see, my mother once told me that ' _beautiful things don't come along very often, but when they do, you'd better make damn sure you take care of them'_."

Try as he might, he was unable to resist letting his eyes move from the proposal towards Elsa, whose breath had stalled in her chest as her lips parted. Noticing the silence become slightly awkward as heads began to swivel between the two CEOs, she cleared her throat and reasserted her composure.

"Shall we vote? I believe you already know what side Mr Overland has chosen." she spoke firmly, trying to cool the rising heat in her ears.

"All those in favour of North Pole Toy Industries initiating a friendly takeover of Fractal Fashion, please raise their hands?"

Almost unanimous, including Jack.

"Any opposed?"

One person directly opposite Jack raised his hand, but it was moot. The supermajority amendment had been met, and the votes had been decided.

Snowfield-Overland was born – but the profound moment was ruined by a certain Scot at the back of the room.

"Yeah! Finally beat tha' level! Down ye go, ye green-skinned bastard!" she yelled triumphantly.

* * *

 

Five minutes to five o'clock, and Elsa was in her office finishing up the emails she would be sending to the board of directors.

Upon their acceptance of the proposal, she had indicated that as the Stock Exchange closed at four o'clock, when they received their offers from the Pole they should take the weekend to peruse the offer and liaise with their brokers. Her plan – learning from the mini _-Dawn Raid_  on Christmas Eve – was to have the directors put their stock up on the Exchange on Monday as close to the end of the trading day as realistically possible. Once that was complete, Jack would present the contract for the merger for both the Pole's and Fractal's boards to sign. Provided that nothing went wrong, Fractal Fashion and North Pole would cease to exist on New Year's Eve, and begin the brand new year as Snowfield-Overland.

To say it gave Elsa a severe bout of excited jitters would be an understatement.

On her end, the weekend would be spent sending email after email, preparing the company for a takeover. Naturally, her employees would be concerned about their job security and it was Elsa's responsibility to reassure them. She also had to alert the techies that email addresses would need to be changed, any letter heads would also need to feature the new name and…a new logo.

She made a mental note to talk to Jack about that.

Not long after shaking Jack's hand once the proposal was accepted, and announcing  _'we at Fractal Fashion are looking forward to working with you'_ , Jack had bade her goodbye and set off to drop Merida at Elsa's house and continue on his way to the Pole. She wondered if he would be spending the weekend sending the same emails as her, but remembered that Phil would probably be doing that, if he hadn't already done so. Given how well they seemed to work together, Elsa wondered precisely why her father had not done the same thing.

"And…done!" she announced to no-one in particular as she clicked the  _Send_  icon with gusto, and leaning back into her executive chair, let out a deep sigh of relief.

"Working hard, or hardly working?"

Elsa's head snapped towards the voice at her door, and with a wide beam of recognition she gasped. It was the voice of someone she hadn't seen in a  _long_  time.

"Hiccup!" she exclaimed.

The man known, oddly, as Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III leaned casually against the doorframe with his feet crossed, regarding her with a lop-sided grin. No longer the skinny, goofy, awkward boy that he used to be, Hiccup now stood at six-foot-one and had matured into a rather handsome and confident twenty-one year old. Messy chocolate brown hair adorned his head, and his emerald green eyes shone with experience and intelligence, and as Elsa noted with amusement he had now grown  _stubble_  on his jaw.

Wearing a black aviator's jacket complete with aviator's sunglasses hooked over the left breast pocket, it was open just enough to reveal an unbuttoned red checkered shirt underneath, and under  _that_  was an  _Imagine Dragons_ t-shirt. Slightly baggy blue denim trousers covered his legs, including the prosthetic lower leg he had to have fitted after an accident in his freshman year at Arendelle High.

"In the flesh! Well, yeah… _mostly_  flesh." he said with a hint of sarcasm, in his customary slightly nasal drawl. Pushing himself from the doorframe, he walked over to Elsa who was already in the process of moving towards him, embracing him in a welcoming manner.

"Wow, how long has it been? You've  _filled out_!" she gushed, parting the hug to stand back and get a good look. Hiccup raised his arms to the side to do a slightly self-conscious shrug.

"Hah! Yeah, I'm not a talking fishbone anymore. I wanted to stop Astrid from wrestling me for my leg and running off with it. You ever seen a guy hop after his fiancé while she's got his leg? It's not pretty." he muttered self-deprecatingly. Elsa chuckled.

"Oh? And how is that working out?"

"Not well," he grimaced, "she still manages to beat me. She says hi, by the way. What about you? How's life?"

"At the moment, it's great. The merger proposal has been accepted, so now we're just waiting until Monday to finalise it. Disney also liked a screenplay that Anna created, so she's going to California soon to talk about making it into a movie. Which reminds me, I hope she left Merida alone, the poor woman's so jetlagged."

"Merida?" Hiccup asked curiously.

"Merida DunBroch. She's Jack's best friend. She's got the most  _amazing_  hair, but from what I can tell she's a little hot-tempered." Elsa answered matter-of-factly, and Hiccup winced slightly.

"Oooh.  _That'll_  be fun. Anna and this Merida woman? Might work on your boyfriend's laptop from a nuclear bunker or something. Speaking of which, where  _do_  you want me to work on it? Do I need riot gear?"

Elsa raised her eyebrows and opened her mouth as if to say  _'good question'_ , and passed by Hiccup to open the door and speak to her secretary.

"Agatha, do I have anything for the rest of today?" she asked, while Hiccup casually walked around to admire the office.

"Uh…no, Miss Snowfield. Your schedule is clear." Agatha replied, closely scrutinizing a sheet of paper.

"Great. I've done all I can for today, so I'm going home. Say hi to the kids for me?" Elsa grinned.

"I will, Miss Snowfield. Enjoy the rest of your day." Agatha smiled, and Elsa retreated into her office. Hiccup turned from the glorious view out of the window and watched her retrieve her pea-coat and handbag.

"I'll text Jack and get him to meet us at my house. I'm pretty sure he won't want anyone he doesn't know in his apartment." Elsa mused, weighing the options. Hiccup looked mildly incredulous – apparently being around people like the Thorston twins and 'Snotlout' Jorgenson who were usually so extroverted, had made the idea of someone being secretive a little confusing.

"What, does he think I'll burn it down?"

* * *

 

It was about six-thirty when Jack arrived at Elsa's house, sporting his laptop he had retrieved when he swung by his apartment. Mercifully, the traffic hadn't been too bad on the way back, but given that he had been stuck in a car for a total of five and a half hours, he was exhausted. Ideally, he would love to go home and sleep, but given the message from Elsa to meet at her house, along with the presence of Anna  _and_  Merida, it was highly unlikely he would get a moment's peace.

It actually made him hesitate to knock at the door, until the heavy weight of his laptop bag brought him back to reality and the reason why he was there in the first place. That being said, knocking was pointless because Anna had already opened the door before he had even raised his hand.

"Your car has a very distinctive growl, Jack." she announced with a grin, squeezing him with a welcoming hug.

"Hey, Anna." he smiled, though after the day's events it took a lot of effort to even do  _that_.

"You okay? You look a little pasty." she frowned, standing aside to let him in.

"Just tired, that's all. Big day." he replied simply, moving into the house and making a beeline straight for the sofa.

"I heard!" she said cheerily, as Jack lowered the laptop bag onto the floor and flopped down onto the sofa, "Elsa told me they agreed. We're going out tonight to celebrate, if you're interested?"

Jack debated the options. Right now, all he wanted to do was sleep for the rest of the day and not care about software, or mergers, or Southernisle, or takeovers. Having said that, he could use a chance to wind down and he hadn't been out with Merida for over three years.

"Since you asked so nicely, and didn't threaten me with Phase Two, why not. Which reminds me, where's Elsa?" he shrugged slowly. Anna beamed her approval as she trotted off to make coffee for herself and Jack.

"She's in her room; Hiccup is showing Toothless to her. I must say, you're taking it really well."

"Taking what?" Jack asked, slightly more tersely than he would have liked. If he was honest, he had hoped it would be Elsa that opened the door, not Anna. He tried to chalk it up to childish jealousy and put it out of his mind.

"Hiccup and Elsa dated for six months in tenth grade. Didn't she tell you?" Anna frowned, replacing her latte pod with Jack's Americano.

"Tell who what?" Elsa's voice came from the corridor, and upon rounding the corner with Hiccup and seeing Jack on the sofa her face broke into that heart-stopping smile…which promptly dropped to a frown upon catching Anna's wincing face.

"About…you and…Hiccup."

"Me and Elsa what?" he asked, not getting it. Neither was Elsa, strangely.

"High school," Anna tried to clarify without  _actually clarifying_ , but the puzzled looks prevented that, " _dating_."

Hiccup and Elsa's faces went blank with dawning realisation, and her eyes went over to Jack, his expression unreadable but an eyebrow raised. Quite a few curse words were going through her head at the time.

"Hoo boy. This is awkward." Hiccup muttered, averting his gaze and scratching the back of his head nervously. Elsa opened her mouth a few times, trying furiously to remember if she had told Jack or not. Tense silence descended around the room, as anxious glances were exchanged between Elsa and Jack.

"No, she didn't," he said pointedly as he rose to his feet, regarding Elsa with a stony gaze making her simultaneously blush  _and_  pale.

He turned his gaze to Anna and raised an eyebrow…and as the tension grew to a point that it could be cut with a knife…

…he burst into laughter.

It was easy enough to play a prank on Anna, but to simultaneously fox both Elsa  _and_  the new arrival? Priceless.

"Oh God, that's funny," he said in between peals of mirth, "what did you think I was going to do, yell  _'Jack Smash!'_ and trash the place? Seriously, tenth grade is, like, six years ago. Why would I be bothered?"

Anna opened and closed her mouth a few times like a fish, completely at a loss for how to respond. Elsa, on the other hand, breathed a sigh of relief.

"Although if 'Toothless'is a euphemism for something, Merida  _will_ be holding me back." he added, his ever-so-slightly-threatening gaze shifting over to Hiccup who suddenly wore a shocked expression.

"What? No! Dude, that's just wrong. Toothless is my personal jet! He's a modified Cessna Citation X+! Here, have a look."

Hiccup fished his phone out of his denim trousers, and after flicking through a few screens handed it over to Jack, who whistled with appreciation.

"Sexy." he nodded, impressed. Toothless was jet black, with an electric blue fire design on the nose that tapered into a single line stretching across both sides of the fuselage. The left horizontal stabilizer was painted a rich, bright red, and a logo of a dragon adorned the vertical stabilizer.

"So, when you said you were flying here, were you actually…"

"Oh yeah," Hiccup nodded proudly, "I'm a certified civilian pilot. Only took five hours to get here, 'cause my buddy is the fastest private jet there is!"

He announced that to the rest of the room as if to brag, but Elsa had to stifle a giggle when Jack pulled a mocking expression and mimicked the last sentence, quickly darting back to impassive as soon as Hiccup turned around for his phone.

"Wait…I'm confused. You're  _not_  mad that Elsa's ex is here?" Anna said, a little incredulously. Jack sighed and nearly put his hand through his head with the force of his face-palm.

"Anna…why would I be mad? Yeesh. I'm not some pressure-sensitive land mine, you know."

"Besides," Elsa added, "Hiccup is engaged to Astrid-"

"-what you were supposed to say was 'I'm attracted to Jack, anyway'-" Jack interjected, teasingly.

"-and had he been serious, it's a little rich coming from the  _Burgess Heartbreaker…_ and I  _love_  Jack, anyway." she finished, shooting him a glare as though daring him to interrupt.

"Nice recovery." Hiccup snarked.

"Och, fer cryin' out loud, I wish I'd nae opened me mouth." Merida groaned as she rounded the corner into the main room, the conversation having woken her up.

"Welp," Hiccup announced, "as we are now in the land of  _awkward_ , I'm going to play with the laptop. Seriously, I need to purge my brain of all this awkwardness."

"That reminds me, what's this prototype program you mentioned on the phone?" Elsa asked curiously, her eyes on Jack who wore an expression of  _'what?'_. Hiccup's face lit up, and from his other trouser pocket pulled out a black USB stick.

"Well, as you know my Dad's company makes aircraft, both military and civilian, right? In the past few years, though, there's been a demand for protection against cyber-terrorism. So, he set up a division that makes firewalls and stuff. From that, we came up with a new defensive program which I call…"

He held up the USB stick like it was a gift from the heavens, and gazed at it proudly.

"…the  _Night Fury Protocol."_

Had Elsa's front door been open, there was a strong chance that tumbleweed would have travelled through the room and down the corridor to the bedrooms. Blank glances were exchanged between the occupants, except Merida who rolled her eyes and busied herself with trying to work out how to operate the coffee dispenser.

"Boys an' their toys…" she muttered under her breath.

"Well, that sucked. I was hoping for a little more fanfare than that, but okay." Hiccup groaned, turning towards the sofa and flopping down while Jack passed him the laptop from the bag. He booted up the device before pausing hesitantly.

"I'm not going to find any porn or anything, am I?" he fixed Jack with a suspicious, narrow-eyed expression.

"Nah, that's on my phone." he grinned, winking at Elsa who flushed the same colour as Merida's hair and promptly busied herself with teaching the Scot how to make the coffee.

"Good to know," the aerospace heir nodded, and offered his hand to Jack, "and since there's no hard feelings – Hiccup Haddock, at your technological service."

Jack took the offered hand as he took the space beside him, and grasped it a little firmer than he usually would.

"Jackson Overland. Slightly more sensibly named." he snarked, and even elicited an amused half-smile from Hiccup.

"Hah! Yeah, no, I love it when people say that. Right, the  _Night Fury Protocol_  is a thing of beauty, if I do say so myself. You see, in this day and age we're all tied to our computers, right? Pretty much every country in the world relies on software and hardware to function, so naturally they're all terrified that some cyber-terrorist is gonna hack in and bring the country to its knees."

Hiccup emphasised his elaboration of the  _Protocol_  with slightly excessive hand gestures, and Jack got the distinct impression that you had to be a little bit grandiose to work in Berk Aerospace. Movement from near the breakfast bar caught his eye, and he worked so,  _so_  hard to stifle the chuckles when he saw Merida waving her arms about in imitation.

"So, while I was sketching out a dragon I came up with this. The  _Night Fury_  is a sentinel program, and it watches for connections made by hackers attempting an unauthorised login of a system. Soon as that happens, it travels back through the connection, hits the attacker's operating system and pretty much nukes it, along with any other systems that happen to be networked to it. Phones, tablets, you name it – the  _Night Fury_  burns it…and because I have a certain flair for the dramatic, it even has a picture and sound effect too."

"And then," he declared, making a  _poof_  gesture with his hands, "before the bad guys even know what hit them, it's gone. Disappears into the night. Cool, huh?"

He was about to slide the USB into the socket on the side of Jack's laptop when a hand stopped him, and following it to his owner, emerald met cobalt as the Pole CEO fixed him with a hard look.

"You're sure it will work? Elsa's future is riding on this."

Hiccup nodded sincerely, aware of the consequences and completely on Jack's wavelength. After all, he would do the same for Astrid in a heartbeat.

"That's why I tested it before I flew over," he grinned knowingly, then checked his watch, "Snotlout's computer should be able to  _just_ play Solitaire about now…as long as he doesn't go crazy and start playing Minesweeper.  _Night Fury_ kinda did a number on it."

* * *

 

"I still don't get why you're single, Merida! I mean, you've got this  _amazing_  hair, awesome personality…" Anna began, unable to stop herself from twirling some of the fiery curls around her fingers. Merida shrugged and sipped some more of her coffee.

"I'm a free spirit, lass. I've got me Harley, me brothers, me archery…I dinnae need a man ta be happy. I prefer tha single life.  _Maybe_  in tha far future, but right now I'm happy tha way I am."

Anna opened her mouth to protest, but Elsa covered it with her hand and flashed Merida an apologetic grimace…however her eyes kept darting to the two men on the sofa, curious as to if they were getting along.

"Sorry about my sister. She's an incurable romantic, and with her getting married next year, it's contagious."

"Oh?" Merida raised her eyebrows, "I'd better get an invite, lassie. Else I'm gatecrashin', and that ain't a pretty sight. Wha's the laddie like?"

Anna promptly and happily described Kristoff, using her arms to simulate his height and width, and taking painstaking care over his features.

"I could take 'im in a brawl." Merida shrugged matter-of-factly.

"I don't doubt it," Elsa agreed, her eyes still flicking between the Scot and her boyfriend, "speaking of fights, how  _did_  you and Jack become friends?"

"I punched him." she said nonchalantly. Anna raised an eyebrow in mild shock and curiosity. The Scot noticed this, and figured clarification was needed.

"I was an exchange student, an' it was ma first day at Burgess High…and ye know what schools are like. If ye stick out, ye get bullied. So, naturally, there's me with ma red hair and ma Scottish accent, so some bloke tried ta have a go. Tried mockin' ma speech, so I punched him."

Merida emphasised it with a vicious left jab, forcing Anna to jerk her head sideways to avoid the strike.

"An' I kept punchin' him, but some prick lifted me off sayin'  _'I think he's had enough'_. 'Course, I didnae think so, and punched  _'im_  in tha gut. Turns out it was Jacky-boy."

"What happened then?" Elsa's eyes went a little wide, aware of Jack's propensity for violence.

"He  _laughed._  I was stunned. I thought  _'I jus' hit 'im in tha gut, and he's laughin'?'_. There 'e was, smirkin' like it was nothin'. Other laddie gets up, starts mouthin' off about crazy foreigners, starts calling me names. I was about ta finish what I started, but Jacky-boy got there first. Knocked the bastard clean out an' said  _'tha's for bein' a dick'_. Best friends ever since."

"That explains the  _Heartbreaker_. Having you around made him, by definition, unattainable." Anna nodded in understanding. Merida clicked her fingers and pointed at her.

"Right ye are, lassie. Honestly, between me and lookin' after his family, 'e never really had tha time ta date. I'm shocked he doesnae have tha social skills o' an empty pint glass. Ye mus' be a good influence on tha lad, Elsa." Merida finished, raising her cup to the elder sister who smiled in thanks.

"Although," the Scottish accent took on a mildly menacing tone as she raised the mug to her mouth, "I'll deck anyone who hurts ma bestie."

Another awkward silence descended in the room, which was mercifully broken by Hiccup's proclamation of  _'Done!'._  Seizing the opportunity, Anna released Merida's curls and announced to the group after checking the time on her phone.

"Right, it's seven thirty. We're going for drinks now."

"As in,  _right now?_ " Jack asked incredulously.

"Yes. Right now." Anna finished.

"Alright," he sighed, rising from the sofa and fishing through his pocket for the keys, "I'll drive."

"Are ye nae plannin' on gettin' plastered with us, laddie?" Merida asked curiously.

"Let's just say I don't feel like drinking tonight." he shrugged. Elsa felt a pang of something unwelcome in her stomach, and wondered why he had chosen to abstain.

* * *

 

Thirty minutes after Anna's decision, the choice had been left to Merida as to where to celebrate the proposal agreement. Naturally they found themselves in an Irish themed pub. It was as close as it came to feeling like home.

To everyone's surprise – and secret relief – Merida and Hiccup got on like a house on fire. Both of their companies were based in Scotland and as such they could talk about things that the rest of the group had no clue about. When he informed her that Celtic FC had beaten Rangers with two goals to one, Merida nearly spilled her pint of Guinness cheering and singing.

Anna and Elsa had been excitedly chatting about her impending visit to California along with the hopeful merger, and the younger sister was positively brimming with enthusiasm. She had encouraged Jack to come up with a new logo, to which he had quietly replied that he already had one in mind. Anna had then remembered about the party idea that she had drafted a few weeks ago, and suggested that they should organise it in a couple of weeks' time to celebrate the company merger. She called it the  _Wynter Ball_ , and it would showcase the namesake clothing line along with the Pole's latest range of toys. A sort of display of what Snowfield-Overland could achieve.

When she asked if the two newcomers would like to come, they replied that they wouldn't miss it for the world. Merida in particular always looked for an excuse to wear her  _Bravery_  dress, issuing yet another salute to Elsa with her pint. Hiccup announced that he would be there with bells on; though he was thankful that Astrid wasn't there otherwise she would  _literally_  put bells on his prosthetic leg.

The only person who was not in any conversation was Jack, and it was by choice. He had barely touched his soda, and was content to just listen, watch, and think…to the point that quite a few times, he would zone out.

"What do ye think, Jack?" came Merida's voice, almost muffled like a distant sound.

"Huh?" he said, absent-mindedly, and then acutely aware of everyone's eyes upon him as he was stirred from his thoughts.

"Best archer. Katniss Everdeen or Legolas? Peg-leg over 'ere reckons tha effeminate elf would win."

"Neither. Hawkeye." Jack stated, simply. He actually thought that in an equal fight Legolas would probably win, but he just wanted to see the reaction.

"What? Dude, c'mon! What makes you say that? Legolas would totally win!" Hiccup protested, doing that wavy thing with his arms again.

"Two words.  _Exploding arrows_." he half-smiled. Hiccup rolled his eyes and waved dismissively.

"Whatever."

Jack quietly snorted, then rose from the table, picking up his laptop bag as he did so.

"I'm getting another drink. Anyone?" he asked the table. Merida was mid-swig when she had to quickly swallow to answer.

"Ay, laddie. I'll 'ave another pint. Get me some nuts too, would ye?"

" 'Kay. Anyone else?"

Various nods and murmurs of assent greeted him, and after mentally reciting the orders Jack left the table for the bar. Elsa's eyes fell upon his still-full glass of soda, and she frowned.

"Excuse me, guys." she said, her eyes firmly on the back of Jack's head as she rose from her seat.

"Me and my big mouth." Anna muttered regretfully to herself.

The off-duty CEO had only just ordered the round when he felt a hand on the base of his spine, and the shocking tingles that  _always_  appeared gave away who the hand belonged to.

"Hey, snowflake. 'Sup?"

"Are we okay?" she asked, slightly nervously. There was a look in her eyes that pricked at Jack's heart, like someone had started poking a piñata with a spear, eschewing brute force for efficiency. He frowned, a little uncomprehendingly.

"Um…yeah? Why wouldn't we be?" he asked, narrowing his eyes as he answered one question with another.

"It's just…since you arrived at my house you've been…quiet. Is it what Anna said? About me and Hiccup?" she asked, sincerely hoping it wasn't. Jack rolled his eyes and groaned, choosing not to hide the exasperation.

"That again? I'm not bothered, and really, I don't know why Anna thought I would be. Elsa, it's cool. Don't stress. This is pretty much the first meaningful relationship I've had in…well… _ever_ , so I'm not gonna screw it up by getting jealous of someone you dated six years ago. Well, maybe a  _little_. His jet is all kinds of sexy."

Elsa giggled to cover her sigh of relief, and Jack took her hand, pressing gentle kisses onto her knuckles.

"I'm just fucking wiped out. Been in that car for about six hours today, plus the meetings, all the excitement…I'm just beat. I'm sorry I can't be my usual happy-go-lucky self." he said, smiling apologetically. Elsa's own smile went from warm to  _let's-turn-Jack's-heart-into-butterflies_.

"I'm glad. You're very good at hiding things." she said, her pulse quickening as it did whenever she was within a certain distance of her love. A kind of Jack-detector.

"Not with you." he said pointedly, and smirked when he saw Elsa's cheeks undergo the transition to blushing pink. Noticing that the barman had finished preparing their drinks, he paid for the round and with great care, carried three of the glasses while Elsa took the other two, and he followed her back to the table. She returned to her previous seat, but Jack did not sit. Rather, he fished out a few bills and placed them on the table. Curious expressions greeted his gesture, and Anna opened her mouth to question it.

"Cab fare. I'm gonna go home, or else I'll fall asleep soon…and the last time I did that near Merida, she drew a moustache on my face." he explained. The table burst into chuckles, with the Scot smirking knowingly. Elsa motioned to rise from her chair.

"Want me to come?" she asked, seemingly a little hopeful. Jack shook his head as he re-adjusted the laptop bag strap on his shoulder.

"Nah, I'm cool. 'Sides, you and Maverick over here probably have a lot of catching up to do."

Disappointment danced upon Elsa's face, until Jack bent down and placed a delicate, soft kiss on her cheekbone and whispered  _'love you, see you tomorrow'_  before he left. The aforementioned disappointment turned into warm, childish butterflies and a shy grin.

Anna watched him disappear out of the bar, before turning to the group and muttering in a hushed, secretive voice.

"Jack vs Hiccup. Fight to the death. Who wins?"

* * *

 

He knew he should treat laptops with greater care than tossing the bag containing it onto his sofa, but Jack was  _that_  tired he didn't give a shit. All that was running through his mind was getting changed into his bed-clothes, climbing under the sheets and getting some well-needed sleep.

The day had been mentally and physically exhausting: two meetings at different buildings, both obstacles in their own right, the joy of seeing his childhood best friend happen to drop by his office, the resounding victory in his heart upon hearing that both companies had agreed to the friendly takeover and the merger, but more importantly the nearly six hour driving time.

He made a mental note to start working from Snowfield Tower as soon as possible – it would be a hell of a lot easier to commute.

Taking a quick, sleepy look out of his living room window, he noticed a black van parked across the street that wasn't usually there, but given that it was Friday night and as such the city was host to all kinds of people seeking a good time, he paid it no mind. All he wanted to do was go to bed.

He sent a quick goodnight message to Elsa, which was promptly returned with  _'Sleep well, Jack. Love you!'_  and stumbled through to his bedroom, desperate to feel the soft fluffiness of slumber as he slid under the blanket – not even bothering to change out of his suit.

He had only slept for a couple of hours when the sound of footsteps in his apartment reached his ears, and instantly stirred him from his slumber. Exasperatedly shaking his fuzzy head, he slid out of bed and staggered in the direction of his living room, rubbing his eyes as he took each step.

"Elsa, I thought you were…who the fuck are  _you_?"

 

_to be continued…_


	31. They Know (The Conclusion)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things regarding this chapter. Firstly, some of it's gonna be dark, and violent. Just giving y'all a warning, given that it's a Mature level and moderate violence will ensue.

In a moment of angry self-admonition, Jack cursed himself for not remembering the smallest detail.

Elsa had been wearing sensible, comfortable shoes, and the footsteps he heard that stirred him were those of someone wearing heavy  _boots_.

The living room was way too dark to make out any details, but the moonlight shining in through the window provided all the illumination that was needed to make Jack's skin crawl and send a shiver of fear throughout his entire nervous system.

He thought the only person who knew where he lived was Elsa.

Which meant that this was Southernisle.

And they had found him.

Survival instincts kicked in like the opening salvo of an artillery barrage, the fight-or-flight behaviour taking control of his body and his senses. Except, Jack was never one for flight. With a roar of feral rage, he hurled himself at the intruder and charged into his midriff with all the strength he could muster. Hearing a satisfying  _'oof'_  as his shoulder connected with the man's diaphragm, he felt the world almost tip forward as they hit the ground.

Taking advantage of the surprise attack, Jack sat astride the man, grasped a fistful of material and rained punch after punch down upon him, pain shooting through his hands with each impact. Grunting with each strike. His pulse thundered in his ears, each beat like an explosion. He would not stop, not until he could feel bone break under his fist, be it his or the intruder's. He felt the man's nose shatter under his knuckle as he heard a roar of anguish, and for a split-second he thought he was going to win.

Until he felt another pair of arms hook under his shoulders, and pull his own arms back upon themselves. Searing pain shot through his shoulder-blades and down into his fingertips, and for a second he thought the second intruder would dislocate both of his shoulder joints. Struggling to free himself, he kicked his legs as much as he possibly could to disturb the attacker's footing, but it was no use.

He just wasn't strong enough.

"Jesus Christ, my fucking nose! Asshole broke my fucking nose! You're gonna pay for that!" he vaguely heard the first intruder hiss, and seconds later he felt a vice-like grip around his throat, tight enough to send a rush of panic throughout his chest. He could just about make out a fist wind back and braced himself for the impact, which probably would shatter his jaw.

Except it never came.

"No. Call the boss." came another voice behind him, this one sounding slightly robotic.

* * *

 

Pritchard snapped up his cell phone almost as soon as it rang, tense adrenaline coursing through his body.

"Yes? Is it done?" he practically shouted.

" _Not…aargh, this hurts…not yet. Overland woke up and attacked us, but we've got him pinned. What do you want us to do?"_

Pritchard thought for a moment. It was almost too good to be true. They were only supposed to obtain whatever device Jack had used, but to actually  _find_  him in the apartment at the time? Providence. Two birds, one stone.

"Kill him, but make it look like an accident. Burn the place to the ground, and bring whatever you find to my apartment."

Without another word, he hung up, and the most malevolent smile he had ever worn curled up across his face.

"Sic transit gloria Jackson Overland. Don't worry; I'll take good care of Elsa for you."

* * *

 

Yard-Brush slid the phone back into his black utility jacket with one gloved hand, and tentatively stroked his nose. Muffled yells brought him back into the apartment, and he glanced at his partner who, somehow during the phone-call, had managed to tie Jack's wrists together with a zip-tie and stuffed a rag into his mouth. The captured man was struggling and yelling against Sideburns, but with his hands behind his back and the bigger man pinning him against the floor by his head, there was nothing he could do.

"So, what's the plan?" Sideburns asked nonchalantly.

"Accident, just like the guy in New York. Wants us to set fire to the place. Probably with him in it."

Jack's eyes went wide, and for the first time since he woke up, absolute terror coursed through his imprisoned body as he struggled and thrashed. A voice inside his head told him it was no use, given that he was gagged and his apartment was soundproofed.

No-one would hear him.

"Alright, so what're you thinking? Cooking fire? Electrical? Cigarette? Either way, we'll need to knock him out first." Sideburns asked once more, as though browsing a menu at a restaurant.

Yard-brush considered the options for a moment as he rooted through a small black duffel bag, shining a flashlight into it so he could see.

"Got it."

He produced a vacuum sealed pack containing a syringe and a small vial of clear liquid, and proceeded to tear apart the plastic pack with his gloved hands. Jack felt nausea grip his stomach and an arctic chill shoot through his spine as he watched the man pierce the vial's seal with the needle.

"Cooking fire. Statistically the highest cause of household fires in the US. Dosage?" he asked, glancing at his comrade while his thumb and forefinger waited to lift the plunger.

"Makes sense. Owner passes out in bed, forgets he left the frying pan on the heat, burns to death. Same dosage as the prostitute, this guy is about the same build."

Yard-Brush nodded and lifted the plunger to the desired measurement, and Jack's eyes widened to their limit as the needle slid back out, glinting under the moonlight like a deadly spear, liquid sliding from the tip. Nausea gripped his stomach, and he tried to scream – but the rag in his mouth turned it into a pathetic whimper. Thrashing his legs in a panic, he felt the second push his head into the floor, while using his heavier build to stop the writhing of the CEO's limbs.

He could not move a single inch, and with his heart beating fearfully in his chest he could do nothing but feel the sharp prick of the needle piercing his right upper arm, and the liquid being forced into his body.

_Shit. I'm going to die here._

"Here's the plan," Sideburns announced, "you stay and keep the pipsqueak pinned. I'll go get the cop uniforms from the van, then knock on the other doors. These are student apartments, so they should all be out getting wasted or laid, but if anyone  _is_  home, I'll tell 'em there's a gas leak or something."

Sideburns temporarily relinquished his hold of Jack, who then tried to jerk and writhe away but found that his limbs were starting to feel heavier, his mind becoming cloudy and his vision a little hazy, as well as an even heavier weight keeping him forced to the floor.

"Don't worry," he heard him whisper tauntingly, "you probably won't be able to feel yourself burn."

If Jack could, he would probably have thrown up.

* * *

Images floated through Jack's mind like an old projector full of photographic memories, as his body gradually become unresponsive to his brain's frantic orders.

Posing for the photograph with his sister and his mother. Laughter as he built a snowman with Sophie, who promptly tackled it to the ground while giggling childishly.

Feeling her fingers go limp in his hands as the ambulance jostled to and fro, and the steady sound of the flatline.

Two pairs of eyes in a lecture hall, one light blue, one cerulean.

Heavenly laughter from soft, tender lips.

A smile that could stop a thousand hearts.

Breathless moans and the ecstasy of skin.

Snowfall outside a log-style house, an elegant ice-blue dress and a snowflake pendant. A sweet, passionate, loving kiss.

"… _I love you."_

" _I love you, Jack."_

And as his mind gave up the fight, and his conscious thought joined the inert emptiness of drugged limbs and paralysed muscles, the last thought in his mind accompanied by the peace one feels when they know they are soon about to die…

_Elsa…I'm sorry…_

…and accept it.

… _goodbye._

* * *

Sideburns returned approximately five minutes after Jack succumbed to the sedative, sporting the uniform of Arendelle City's police force. Closing the door behind him and switching the living room light on, he walked over to the inert form of the apartment's occupant and, crouched to press two gloved fingers against his wrist. The pulse was slow and steady, and to make sure that he was completely unconscious he flicked his right ear a few times.

"He's out."

Yard-Brush nodded and rose to his feet, but remained bent over as he slid a knife from a holster under his leg to cut through the zip-tie, and carefully removed the rag from Jack's mouth as he replaced the blade into the holster. The pain in his nose took on a sharper level, and reminded him precisely who was to blame. So, he took out his frustration…

…by aiming a brutal kick into Jack's abdomen. The inert man didn't even flinch.

"Feeling better now? Shall we get on with this, or would you like to break a few of his ribs?" Sideburns asked sarcastically. Yard-Brush shot him a grumpy look.

"Much. My nose even feels a little better. Any problems with the locals?"

"Nah," his partner shook his head, "you remember that psychology experiment…about obedience to authority figures?"

"Milgram. Yeah, put on a uniform and civvies do what you say." Yard-Brush grunted as he lifted Jack over his shoulder like a rag-doll.

"Bingo. Worked like a charm," he grinned, then noticing his partner's scowl he hastily added, "I know, I know. I put on the glasses. No-one will recognise us. Well, the one person that was actually  _home_ , anyway."

Satisfied, his partner nodded and began to carry Jack to the bedroom, then tossed him bodily onto the mattress. Noticing the smartphone on his nightstand, he picked it up and gestured with it to his partner.

"Think he used this?" he asked curiously. Sideburns shook his head.

"You ever tried doing complicated stuff with one of  _those_? Nightmare. Nah, we're looking for a laptop or something." he clarified, turning to leave the bedroom. Yard-Brush hesitated for a moment, then pressed the standby button and raised his eyebrows as the screensaver picture of Jack and Elsa kissing at Christmas flickered to life.

"Cute. I'll let you keep this." he muttered to the unconscious body, stuffing the phone into Jack's trouser pocket. Turning to follow his partner into the living room, he chuckled as he noticed him stood on the coffee table, removing the cover to a smoke alarm.

"Smart. Want me to start the fire?"

"Sure, go right ahead. Swapping the batteries for some dead ones I found in the van. If everything goes right, this guy's gonna burn and no-one will know until the whole place is up in flames."

He paused for a moment, frowning pensively as he twirled the screwdriver in his hand. Yard-Brush asked what the matter was.

"We're pretty much assassins, right? We go in, do the job, get out. This whole  _'burn the place down'_  thing, a little over the top isn't it?" he finished, returning his attention to swapping the batteries. Yard-Brush gave him agreement.

"I hear you. Kid's a fucking psychopath. I guess if the Duke makes good on his threat of calling the big cheese back from Europe, this'll be the last job we do for that whiny prick. I just hope this laptop is worth torching the place." he said, busying himself with turning the gas hob onto maximum, lighting it and pouring far too much oil into the frying pan than was normally needed. He placed the pan on the closest hob and went to start looking for their objective. Sideburns, upon finishing his task stepped down from the coffee table and assisted his partner with the search.

"So, how'd it go with…erm…whatsername from Accounts?" Sideburns asked nonchalantly, looking under the sofa cushions.

"You're seriously asking about my date with Sandra? When we're about to torch a place and steal a laptop?" Yard-Brush gave him incredulous while he peered behind the television.

"I'm multitasking." Sideburns replied,. His partner rolled his eyes, and then stiffened as flames erupted from the pan, reaching halfway up to the ceiling.

"She's nice. Real sweetheart. I don't think it'll go anywhere, though. Our lifestyles aren't exactly compatible." he answered, smiling as he watched the fiery dance in the kitchen.

"I hear you. Oh hey, found something." Sideburns announced, crouching under the sofa and grasping for a strap, the laptop bag having been dislodged and pushed under the furniture in the initial struggle. Unzipping the bag, he grinned proudly and showed it to his partner.

"Got it. What now?" he said, re-zipping the bag and tossing it over his shoulder. Yard-Brush walked over to the breakfast bar, feeling the heat from the pan tickle his face and mingle with the dull ache in his nose. Grasping a half-empty glass bottle of whisky by its neck, he passed it over to his partner.

"Empty this out, and then fill it with water."

Sideburns took the bottle in his hand, and anxiously glanced at the fire that was now spreading over the kitchen counter as the oil spat its burning globules everywhere.

"In the bathroom, genius." Yard-Brush rolled his eyes once more. Sideburns made an  _'Oh!'_  face and quickly darted off to begin his task, forcing himself against the wall as he passed the kitchen. Yard-Brush could just about hear the sound of water running over the spitting and hissing of the frying pan, and when his partner promptly returned with the full bottle of water, he took it from him and stepped over to the front door, unlocking it and partly opening it.

"You know the reason why you should never use water on a grease fire?" he smirked at his partner, raising the glass bottle above his head. Sideburns shook his head.

" _This_  is why." he announced almost cheerfully, and with a grunt of effort threw the bottle of water with all his might at the wall just above the flames. The glass shattered into a million pieces, and the clear liquid splashed down onto the frying pan.

And the flames  _exploded_.

Like magma from an erupting volcano, oily globules of fire shot out from the main blaze and flew all over the kitchen, with some effortlessly clearing the breakfast bar and landing on the sofa, the rug under the coffee table, the wooden floor.

Fairly soon, it was beginning to burn everywhere.

"Exit assassins, stage left." Sideburns declared wittily, and with adrenaline-fuelled haste, the Southernisle hit-men swiftly exited the room and closed the door behind them, leaving Jack to his fate.

Soundly unconscious, blissfully unaware of the burgeoning inferno in his kitchen.

* * *

"So, Hiccup," Merida asked, fixing him with a studious look, "when did ye meet this Astrid lassie?"

Hiccup grinned and let a faraway, romantic look dance upon his features as he leaned back into the soft cushion of the booth they were in. Anna had suggested they do what Merida called a 'pub-crawl', and this had been their third bar. Neither Anna nor Elsa had drunk much alcohol, the younger sister still anxious about the  _last_  time she went out for a party and the elder just content with her soda. Merida, however, was on her sixth or seventh pint and seemed to possess an ironclad will against the effects; she was still as sober as a judge. Hiccup was ever so slightly slurring his words, but with his characteristic drawl it was barely noticeable.

"Actually, she was the reason Elsa and I broke up." Hiccup declared, and Merida's studying expression became a scowl. Noticing this, Elsa hastily clarified.

"What Hiccup means to say is that in the last month of our relationship, he had fallen completely head over heels for her. To be honest, we were both lonely people who kind of, you know, wanted to be lonely together. So we knew it was never going to work out. As soon as he saw Astrid, I knew he'd fallen in love, and when I asked her what she thought of him, she happened to feel the same way – but she never made a move because he was with me. So I basically ended the relationship and let them be together."

"And we've been going strong ever since, thanks to you." Hiccup saluted with his pint of ale. Anna looked positively full of  _' d'aww'_  while Merida gave him a look that said  _'Okay, you may live for now.'_

"What I'd like to know," Anna asked, once the  _'squee'_  subsided, "is how did you  _propose_?"

Hiccup's grin widened to the point that he was a human Cheshire Cat and he shuffled to the edge of the seat ready to, hopefully, blow their minds.

"At ten thousand feet!" he announced proudly, eliciting wide-eyed expressions of surprise and even an impressed eyebrow from the Scot. Murmured questions of  _'how?!'_  garnered a pleased feeling within his chest, and he happily recounted the moment that he offered his life, his love and his loyalty to Astrid Hofferson.

* * *

 

_It had to be their eighth or ninth skydive out of Stormfly, Astrid's personal DHC-6 Twin Otter, and yet Hiccup always felt the familiar rush of nervousness before the jump. The feeling one gets when they're about to ride down the sharp drop in a rollercoaster, only ten times more potent._

_Except, this particular jump held far greater trepidation than any that came before._

" _Are you ready?!" Astrid called to Hiccup, who could just about hear her. He nodded emphatically in response, and decked in her special skydiving suit, she gripped the edges of the hatch and pulled herself backwards and forwards, psyching herself up for the leap. Hiccup always admired Astrid's fearlessness, her bravery and tenacity with any situation that came her way._

_And then, she jumped._

_And without a second thought, Hiccup followed._

" _Fishlegs, this is Ruffnut. Light 'er up." the pilot spoke into his headset, and the slightly garbled reply reached his ears from thirteen thousand feet below them._

" _Hitting the button in ten seconds! Nine…Eight…"_

_It was truly like they were flying, with the air rushing past their ears. Astrid always wore this mad grin on her face when she skydived; it was as though she was born to fly, born to be free in the wind. Today, that grin changed to an uncomprehending frown when Hiccup emphatically jabbed his finger downwards._

" _What?" she mouthed. Hiccup replied by jabbing down even more frantically. Rolling her eyes, she acquiesced, and noticed a huge black sheet stretched across one of the empty fields below them. She recognised it as the prototype light system that Hiccup had designed and developed for if runway lights ever failed and the back-up systems didn't kick in. She watched the thousands of high-watt bulbs flicker and glimmer into life, and then revert to black once more…and then to her surprise, words beamed out at her like organised stars in the sky, one after the other._

_ASTRID_   
_WILL_   
_YOU_   
_MARRY_   
_ME_

_She jerked her head up in complete and stunned surprise, and her eyes locked upon Hiccup's emerald pools hidden behind goggles, so full of hope and anticipation. It was hard enough to breathe up there anyway, without the surprise proposal adding to it._

_But she already know what her answer was, and she never mouthed anything so emphatically and so sincerely in her life._

" _YES!"_

* * *

 

"Oh my God…that is…" Anna began.

"…actually pretty impressive, laddie." Merida finished, clinking her pint glass with Hiccup's.

"Flair for the dramatic, indeed." Elsa nodded, smiling.

"Thanks! I was, you know, actually pretty terrified that I'd gone to all that trouble for her to say no, but when she said yes, the thirty seconds between then and when we landed were the longest in my life."

Various nods and expressions of  _'I'm not surprised'_  greeted his statement, and not that he wanted to, but try as he might Hiccup could not wipe the wide, happy grin from his face.

"What about you, Merida? How do you want to be proposed to?" Anna asked brightly. She wasn't letting this go. The Scot simply smirked and leaned back in the booth, resting her arms on the backrest in a kind of  _'come at me, bro'_  manner.

"Tha's nae a question I need answerin', lassie. I do 'ave one fer Elsa, though. How d'ye want Jack ta propose?" she asked, shifting her astonishingly pale blue gaze onto Elsa's cerulean eyes. The blonde stiffened in her seat, completely taken aback by both the question, and Merida's forthrightness. Fierce heat rushed through her cheeks, and shy embarrassment rushed through her chest, making her heart beat  _just_  that little bit faster.

"I-I…I think it's a little early for that, don't you?" she stammered, unable to get her footing back. The Scot rolled her eyes derisively.

"Och, it's only a matter o' time, lassie. I'm single by bloody choice, an' even I can tell 'e's devoted ta ye. Bloody pansy."

"I gotta say, I'm inclined to agree with the Rangers fan over here." Hiccup joined in, and then promptly yelped when Merida whacked him round the back of his head.

"Celtic, ye bloody peg-leg!" she hissed.

"I guess you're the same, Anna?" Elsa asked, feeling a little bit cornered. Anna subsequently nodded her agreement.

"C'mon, I've seen the way he looks and heard the way he talks about you. It's obvious that you two are gonna last. He'd die for you."

Elsa felt her heart suddenly skip whilst her face simultaneously blanched, forcing Anna to frantically wave her hands in horror.

"Not that I want him to, obviously! Ah jeez, I really should think before I speak." she muttered the last part.

"I-I…" Elsa began, but a vibration in her handbag brought her back to reality, "I have to take this. Be right back." she said quickly, eager to get out of the conversation.

As she walked toward the doors to the bar where it was slightly quieter, she fought with herself inside. If she had to admit, with everything that had happened since Christmas Day, she was finding herself a little less averse to the idea of a proposal because in her mind, she was devoted to him too. Nobody else could compare, and she knew that even in the short time they had been together.

On the other hand, the logical, common sense part of her – and the one that was afraid of being hurt – really didn't like the idea. Sure, he had shown her a hell of a lot of himself over the past few weeks – sometimes literally – but what if there was more, and she found something she didn't like?

There was one thing that both sides of her could agree on, though. Everything that was happening in their lives: the threat of Black, the Overland murders, the potential merger…there were a lot of things they needed to sort out before they even  _thought_  about becoming engaged.

Reaching the doors, Elsa fished her phone from her handbag and checked the caller ID. It was an unknown number, and ordinarily she would refuse to answer…but something in her mind told her that she should. Pressing the  _Answer_  button, she raised the phone to her ears and was greeted with a voice that she did  _not_  expect.

"This is Elsa Snowfield, to whom am I speaking?"

" _Phil. Where's Jack?"_  the now-identified caller responded curtly and quickly.

"Uh, he was with us but he went home about two and a half, three hours ago. Why?"

" _You left him alone?!"_ Phil practically shouted down the phone. Elsa flinched, and over in the booth Merida noticed her reaction and the resultant frown.

"S'cuse me, ye two." she growled, sliding from the booth and walking over to the now-worried CEO.

"Wha's happenin'?" she asked, but Elsa held up a hand to wait, her frown deepening even further.

"What's wrong? Is Jack in trouble?" she asked, her voice a little faint.

" _New York cops found Manny's body in his apartment. They say he died of a heart attack. Southernisle found him, Elsa."_

"If they found him, then that means…" she followed, feeling her gut drop to the floor and all sensations in her limbs suddenly retreat to her spine.

" _Exactly. They know it was Jack, and they'll be coming for him, if they haven't already."_

" _You need to find him. Get. Him. OUT."_

Elsa barely registered the click of Phil hanging up, and her hands began to shake to the point that she dropped the phone. Thankfully, Merida possessed incredibly fast reflexes and caught it before it smashed on the ground.

"Elsa, ye need ta tell me wha's wrong."

Once more, cerulean eyes slowly, almost disbelievingly moved from a fixed point on the wooden door frame to the sky-blue eyes belonging to the fiery Scot, who right now was looking at her with an expression that said  _'I know something is wrong, I can see it in your eyes'._ Her voice came scratchy, with her mouth and throat as dry as a desert.

"They found him."

* * *

Not long after the terrifying phone call, Elsa was in a cab which was tearing the street apart as it rushed to the Winter Apartments. Merida had chosen to accompany her, and dared Elsa to refuse.

" _Ye may be 'is girlfriend, lassie, but I'm his bestie. If e's in danger, I'm comin' with."_

Elsa wasn't about to refuse, because if she was honest, the presence of the headstrong Scot on her side helped her battle the rising fear inside her as the cab closed in on its destination. Merida had already texted Anna via Elsa's phone, informing her of the reason that they had to dive out of the pub and telling them where they were going. Anna replied that they would make their way to the Winter Apartments as soon as possible. She had also been calling Jack's phone non-stop, cursing each time it went straight to voicemail.

"Jack ain't pickin' up, Elsa." Merida spoke, an almost foreign tone of worry to her voice.

She tried to stop the thoughts rushing through Elsa's mind, each one wrenching her gut to the point she was scared it would tear. Jack dead on the sofa. Suffocated in his bed. Shot in the head.

She tried to think of unlocking the door and finding him sleepy, but alive. Incredibly annoyed, but still breathing. Considering the other thoughts she was having, she didn't care if he was screaming mad and cursing at them for waking him up.

At least he'd be alive.

She hadn't even noticed in her agitated worry that her left thumb had been constantly rubbing the base of her ring-finger.

"Winter Apartments." the cab driver announced, and Elsa was already handing over a couple of bills before he had even pulled up.

"Keep the change." she almost shouted as she slid out of the car, and in any other situation would have been pleased by the ecstatic expression on the driver's face, had her eyes not been fixed on the door leading into the apartments. Only one thing was in her mind, filling her with a determination unlike anything that she had felt before, that iron will that you feel when someone you love is in danger and you are compelled to do something.

She had already passed through the apartment entrance and darted up the stairs three at a time – which was impressive with heels – before Merida had even reached the bottom, but the energetic Scot closed the distance quickly, reaching Elsa just as she was about to slide her key into the lock and was about to touch the handle…until a hand shot out and grasped her wrist.

"Wait!" Merida's voice rang out in the stairwell. Elsa shot her a look.

"Does it feel a wee bit warm ta ye?"

Elsa frowned a little, and inclined her head to the side. Merida was right; the temperature of the hallway did feel abnormally high. Anxious thoughts crept into her mind as she glanced at the door. Removing her pea-coat, she held part of the material against the door proper, and tentatively rested her hand against it. The rising heat that she could feel under her fingertips drove home the horrifying realisation, which definitely showed in her face as when she wordlessly glanced at Merida, the Scot's face had blanched in understanding.

"Call 911," Elsa ordered, gesturing to her phone in Merida's hand as she passed her towards a window on the hallway, "and follow me, there's a fire escape that goes to his bedroom window!"

Merida obliged, hitting the three numbers as fast as she could while chasing after her friend. Elsa reached out to her right as she closed in on the doorway, and pulled down on a small white lever inside a red recess in the wall. A shrill, repetitive  _eeeoooww-eeeoowww_ sound, punctuated by a shrieking, regular  _beep_  dominated their hearing, and it did little to calm the thunderous beating of the women's hearts. Rather, it heightened the war-drums and intensified the adrenaline in their bodies.

"Nine-one-one?" Merida yelled down the phone, anxious to make her voice heard over the cacophony as she pried upon a fire extinguisher case with her other hand, "I'm callin' ta report a fire! Winter Apartments, number four! Someone's trapped inside!"

Elsa unlatched and lifted the hallway window, and climbed through onto the fire escape that connected both the main corridor of the building and Jack's bedroom window, and as Merida pocketed the phone she passed the heavy extinguisher through to Elsa's waiting hands, and then climbed through as well.

"Once we break tha window, since tha's what I'm thinkin' ye'll do, we'll need ta move quick 'cause tha oxygen will fuel tha fire!" she shouted, her ears still slightly ringing from the alarm.

"Got it!" Elsa yelled back as they ran towards the waiting window, and hopefully access within. She peered through the glass as much as she could; her eyes frantically scanning the bedroom, fully aware of the blanket of smoke clinging to the ceiling. Her eyes fell upon the bed, and with a gasp she could make out the still form of Jack on the bed in a slightly crumpled position.

"I see him! He's on the bed!" she gasped, pointing. Merida peered through, and her eyes widened when she spotted him.

"I cannae see him moving! Right, back up, lassie!" the fearless Scot yelled as she took the fire extinguisher from Elsa, who backed away from the window obediently but still kept her body tensed and ready to move.

"Remember what ta do," Merida called, her eyes fixed on a part of the glass just above the window latch as she rocked the red cylinder back and forth, "tha smoke'll kill ya quicker than tha fire will, so keep low, try nae ta breathe too much!"

"I know!" Elsa nodded, and without a second thought Merida thrust the extinguisher right at the window. The glass shattered into several pieces, leaving some vicious shards still attached to the frame, intent on slicing any part of the body unfortunate enough to connect to it. Merida carried on jabbing until there was a safe space that she could fit her arm though, and after carefully reaching in and unlocking the latch, she gently lifted the window itself – first by the latch, and then from the bottom as soon as there was space enough under it to fit her fingers.

Almost instantly after she fully lifted the frame out of the way, Elsa had swiftly clambered through and, remembering the fire safety drills in Arendelle College as well as Merida's advice, dropped down to the ground and crawled on her arms and legs towards the bed. The Scot half-climbed through herself, coughing as the cloud of toxic death rushed past her, eager to spread itself in the outside air.

The first thing that hit Elsa as soon as she had entered the bedroom was  _just how fucking hot_  it was. The sheer heat radiating from the inferno merely one wall away felt like it was searing the layers of skin from Elsa's face, and though she kept herself as low as possible, the sensation of breathing warm air when she absolutely had to was exceedingly unpleasant – to the point it was making her cough almost as much as the acrid taste of the air around her.

Merida watched as Elsa reached the bed and clambered up, and her sky-blue eyes kept glancing between Jack and Elsa, and the flickering flames as they advanced upon the bedroom, adding the threat of incineration to suffocation. She did, however, hear a welcome sound from the street below – the tell-tale sound of the fire department arriving.

Brave as she is, the Scot doesn't like to hang around in any situation – life-or-death included.

"Move yer arse, lassie! This place is gonna go up any minute!"

Taking a deep breath of life-giving air from outside the window, she pulled the pin on the extinguisher…

_This ain't gonna do much, but it might slow tha fucker down._

…and clambered through, dropping to her knees and crawling as best she could towards the doorway. Elsa was busy pulling the dead-weight form of Jack – which was easier said than done – from the bed and onto the floor when she tried to shout at her friend, the effort of doing so forcing more chest convulsions to wrack her body.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

"Tryna slow ta fire down, Elsa! Fucking move yer arse ta tha window!" Merida snapped back, equally plagued by the involuntary chest spasm as she pointed the nozzle in the direction of the doorway and let the white powdery substance loose. Elsa resumed pulling her boyfriend from the bed, and for a moment was absolutely terrified that he was already dead, whether by smoke inhalation – or Southernisle disposing of the body.

She had to know.

As soon as gravity took hold and he crumpled to the floor, she quickly placed her fingers on his right wrist and…could have screamed in relief had she not been told to limit her breathing. He still had a pulse. It was slow… _but it was there._

Merida's fight against the flames was valiant, but eventually the extinguisher ran out…just as the inferno began to lick the ceiling of the bedroom. Cursing, she threw the cylinder aside and crawled towards Elsa, hooking one arm under Jack's shoulder as the blonde did the same. Movement was quicker now, with two people both fuelled by terrified adrenaline sharing the surprising weight of a seemingly lifeless body. Reaching the window, Merida climbed through first and bent over to hook both of her arms under Jack, cursing and grunting as she lifted his heavy weight through the window while Elsa supported his legs and fed them through too.

The fire behind them reached a new level of intensity, its unstoppable advance now igniting the bedroom carpet. Elsa glanced back for a second, and the profound weight of the ramifications crashed down on her.

This was the room where their relationship changed, when they became lovers instead of friends. Where he held her for the first time in his bed, making it their personal cocoon of safety. The apartment where companies were saved and truths discovered, where fears were assuaged and love was kindled.

Burning in the insatiable hunger of the all-consuming fire.

Had the heat not dried her eyes, she would have cried.

"Come on, Elsa! We've got ta get outta here!" Merida rasped, her voice croaky yet as fiery as the blaze within the room. The blonde was sharply jerked from her trance, and as her body re-activated itself, she hastily clambered back through the window and into the cold night air, the opposing temperature feeling like a thousand needles piercing her exposed skin, the iciness causing their lungs to continue the violent coughs.

The street-level access to the fire escape was a ladder and there was  _no_  way they could lower the dead-weight of Jack down  _that_ , so in an unspoken understanding conveyed merely by a look, they knew they had to climb back into the hallway and descend the internal staircase. Elsa prayed that the fire had not destroyed the front door.

Merida was just about to put her left leg over the bottom window frame when a familiar, slightly nasal voice rang out from the alleyway below them.

"HEY! The hell are you two still doing up there!?"

Elsa's head whirled around and looked over the edge of the safety rail, and spotted a freaked-out looking Hiccup two floors below, shouting from the snowy ground. Merida removed herself from the window frame and bent over the rail herself.

"Peg-leg! Get tha paramedics ta meet us at tha entrance!" she hoarsely shouted down, wondering if he understood what she said in between her hawking. Hiccup stuck two thumbs up in acknowledgement and ran off toward the street. Merida then resumed her entry into the building and – repeating the manoeuvre they used to get Jack  _out_  – Elsa pulled herself through the window frame, this time proving far more exhausting than before, and picked up Jack's legs at the knee. Quickly closing the distance to the stairwell, Merida carefully descended first, grunting under the weight of the unconscious body against her and, before they knew it, a fireman had effortlessly lifted Jack bridal-style from their arms while another escorted them out to the awaiting paramedics outside.

It was only when Jack was laid upon the stretcher proper, that Elsa and Merida allowed themselves to come back to reality. The adrenaline that had been coursing through their veins began to subside, and as the blinkered, single-mindedness faded from their thoughts, the outside world began to register once more…along with the raw pain in their throats. Vicious coughs wracked their lungs as their bodies began to calm down, some coughs nearly becoming retches.

The surrounding scene was almost surreal.

They were barely aware of another pair of paramedics that escorted them to a second waiting ambulance, the sounds of chaos and rumbling engines, of sprays of liquid and shouting of orders, of firemen passing to and from the building. Barely registering the flashing of blue lights and camera bulbs, the large crowd of onlookers recording the scene on their smartphones for internet immortality.

Neither of them really registered the oxygen masks being placed over their mouths, or the blankets covering their shoulders.

But it didn't matter, because it was a sign that they all survived.

Not once did Elsa's eyes leave Jack's stretcher from when it started moving, to when it was slid into the ambulance, to when the double doors closed and the emergency vehicle tore off in the direction of Our Lady of Arendelle Hospital, and only when she chanced a quick glance at Merida as she gripped the Scot's left hand with her right in between dwindling coughs did she allow herself to think, and feel…and smile.

_He's alive. We're alive. It's over. It's all over._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, some explanations. I looked up the USA fire escapes on the internet, and found that according to NY law - unless it has been changed recently and this limey missed it - fire escapes have to be connected to the living room and main hallway (or both) but that might vary state to state (or I'm completely wrong, which wouldn't be the first time). Either way, I had to handwave it slightly else there would have been no way for Elsa and Merida to rescue Jack and he would have become extra crispy.
> 
> I also tried to keep it as realistic as possible: water on a cooking oil fire is BAD MOJO (seriously, what happens is fricking terrifying when you see that one small cup of water on a pan fire can make it almost literally explode) so...always use something that you can cover the pan with to deprive the fire of oxygen. That, or get the hell out of dodge and call the fire brigade.


	32. Noble Maiden Fair

Elsa hadn't seen Jack since the doors of the ambulance closed, hiding him from her sight.

Shortly after they placed the oxygen masks on the two women, the paramedics busied themselves with the external checks associated with smoke inhalation. The presence of cherry-coloured skin tone for carbon monoxide poisoning, for example. They also checked whether Merida and Elsa could form complete sentences, which they could, with the occasional cough of course. The Scot started to get annoyed, however, when she had to repeat herself for the third time due to her accent.

" _I'm talkin' bloody fine, ye cloth-eared busybody!"_

All in all, due to the utilisation of the skills they had learned when dealing with a fire along with the less than three minutes spent within the room, the two ladies were deemed to be at low risk of any lasting damage. They'd probably have a cough for a while, a rather pissed off throat and maybe a headache too, but otherwise healthy.

That didn't mean they weren't going to be carted off to hospital as well for extra tests and checks, though.

When they arrived at the emergency department not ten minutes later, they were both taken to a couple of 'rooms' – three walls with a curtain masquerading as the fourth – for the further set of checks. If Elsa had to be honest, she had never been 'prodded and poked' as much in her life, and she couldn't help but chuckle inwardly when she heard the rather grumpy remarks of Merida on the other side of the wall. Evidently she was never a good patient.

" _Ach, fer cryin' out loud! Gimme tha form ta sign so ye can stop with tha fussin'!"_

Definitely not a good patient.

When all was said and done, they were each given a prescription for painkillers and an inhaler to soothe any lingering problems that may or may not occur, and only when they were effectively discharged did Elsa have a chance to ask the question that had been burning in her chest since they arrived.

"How is Jack?" she asked the nurse that handed her the discharge form.

"Jack…?" the nurse repeated, not quite following.

"Jackson Overland. White hair, came in before us…" Elsa explained, her eyes full of apprehension.

"Are you related?"

"He's my boyfriend." Elsa explained once more, anxious to get to the answers she craved. The nurse studied her briefly, and half a smile crept up on her face. The young CEO quickly signed the form and handed it back, as though it was currency for a response.

"Lucky guy. He was taken for a chest X-ray shortly after arriving, and we'll be doing a few blood tests for carbon monoxide poisoning among other things. From what I hear, you and Little Miss Grumpy over there saved his life."

"I heard that!" Merida's voice bounced over the walls. The nurse merely snickered to herself.

"When can I see him?" Elsa asked once more…and she really,  _really_  hoped it would be soon. All she wanted to do was hold his hand, to feel his fingertips against hers. That was it. Even if she couldn't wrap her arms around him and kiss him like she so desperately needed to, she would settle for the simple connection of one hand upon another. The emotion behind her words and the want in her eyes seemed to be akin to a neon advertisement to the nurse, whose face softened with sympathetic promise.

"Soon. From what I heard, he's going to be okay, but don't quote me on that. He has a few more tests to go through, but then he'll be moved to another ward. You should be able to see him then and besides, the doctor may have a few questions for you."

Elsa nodded in acknowledgement, but there must have been something in her expression when her eyes fell to her anxiously wringing hands.

"Tell you what. If you two go and wait in the cafeteria, as soon as I hear he's being moved to the ward and is safe to have visitors, I'll come and tell you. That okay?"

Elsa looked up and a grateful smile crept across her lips, and she slowly nodded in thanks. The nurse gave her a quick grin before she turned to open the curtain, and not wanting to stay sat on the bed a moment longer, Elsa hurried out…closely followed by the fiery Scot from the next alcove.

"We'll schedule a follow-up appointment in a week's time, and if you feel any worse be sure to come back and let us have a look at you." the nurse read off the spiel, and without further ado went off to process the discharge form.

Merida turned toward the corridor that led out of the emergency ward, her eyes still glancing between the myriad of medical staff in case one of them pounced for yet  _more_  tests, and just as she was about to take the first step she jumped in surprise, her head snapping down to the right pocket in her emerald jeans. It took a second, but the vibrations coming from her leg reminded her that she had pocketed Elsa's phone, and someone was trying to get hold of her.

"Elsa, yer phone's vibratin'" she muttered, quickly sliding the device from her pocket and passing it over to the blonde's accepting hands. Quickly hitting the standby button and ignoring the battery icon that seemed to say  _'Oi, charge me!'_ she saw two notifications, one from the number that Phil had called from, and the other from Anna.

" _Been trying to get hold of you for ages. What happened with Jack? – Phil"_

" _Hey, Hiccup and I just got here, we're in the waiting room. Are you and Merida okay? Is Jack okay? – Anna xox"_

Elsa considered who to reply to first, if at all. Phil deserved an update, given that if not for his call, she would probably be completely unaware that Jack had burned to death until probably the day after…and she really didn't want to think about that. Merida had already made a move down the corridor by the time she hit the  _Reply_  button, and typing as she walked, she fired off the first message. Two words, a location and a name, and no more needed to be said.

" _He's safe. Our Lady of Arendelle Hospital. – Elsa"_

Halfway down the corridor, she was just about to reply to Anna's message when she glanced up and noticed she was passing the ladies bathroom, and the strange sensation that could only be described as though a sheet of paper was holding back a tidal wave grew within her chest. It made her stop in her tracks, and even Merida glanced back as she noticed her compatriot was no longer by her side.

"Ye alright, Elsa?" she asked, frowning. Elsa didn't answer for a moment, her eyes still fixed on the bathroom door. Reacting a little slower than she ordinarily would have done, she blinked a few times and tried to reassert her composure – such as it was.

"Yeah," she said, the words coming out croakily, "I'm…nature calls. Can…can you find Anna in the waiting room and let her know what happened?"

Merida studied her for a moment, and the now-shaken blonde was struck with the thought that the Scot was anything but stupid…but also incredibly sensitive. She didn't say a word, instead she nodded solemnly and respectfully, her red curls dipping and rising as she did so. Elsa thanked her and doubled back the few steps toward the door, and prayed that there was no-one inside.

Thankfully, there wasn't…because the paper wall had started to break.

A line of sinks were fixed to the right wall, and she walked to the furthest one from the door in a sort of daze. Only when she stopped did she catch herself in the mirror, and she looked like  _hell_. A black, sooty substance graced her once porcelain skin and her hair was loose from its braid, with flyaway strands attempting escape all over the place. She glanced down at her hands, which also bore the same black marks, relics of the fiery ordeal.

Without prompt, her right hand reached out for the paper towel dispenser between her mirror and the next, tearing off sheet after sheet after sheet while her left hand ran the hot faucet.

She then soaked one of the towels in the water and began to furiously scrub at the marks on her hands, as though something had just taken over her physical motion and her mind just decided to stand back and watch. She was barely aware of tears starting to slide from her eyes and a lump forming in her throat as she wiped off one hand and started on the other, and her mouth assumed that grimace when you're desperately trying not to cry.

The tidal wave was the held-back emotions of the ordeal, compartmentalised by her heart and brain so she could function as a survivor and Jack's saviour…and it was only when she had a moment's peace and opportunity that her body allowed the wave to break forth. It was a rush of relief. A torrent of grief and rage, of fear and panic. The knowledge of how close she came to another name being added to those she loved and lost, how close her heart came to being shattered into a thousand irreparable pieces. Of how his kiss on her cheek could have been their last, and she would have never been able to feel his touch again.

Just how much he meant to her, and how it would have torn her asunder to hear that his life had been lost in the blaze.

She was barely aware of the bathroom door opening as she began to furiously scrub her cheeks, until she heard the soft, sympathetic utterance of her name and a gentle, familiar hand on her forearm. Slowly, painfully, her eyes moved to the right and eventually rested upon light blue pools surrounded by strawberry-blonde hair, and an expression of understanding and empathy.

"Anna…" she could only rasp, before the paper wall finally broke and the tears rained forth from her eyes and the sobs escaped her mouth. Before she knew it, her legs grew too weak to support her weight and so, supported by her younger sister, they descended to the floor. Her right hand instinctively reached out and gripped Anna's purple cardigan like it was a lifeline, and her head buried herself in her sister's shoulder as the sobs wracked her body.

Sometimes, when the body is host to so many emotions, the only way it can cope is to cry.

And yet, somewhere on the stormy sea inside that swelled up into her eyes and along her face carving faint lines into the blackened marks, a steely ship with an immovable anchor stayed firm. The knowledge that not so long ago, she selflessly and fearlessly put herself in harm's way to save the one she loved, and in the resolute conviction that…

…in a heartbeat, she would do so again.

* * *

 

It had only been a few minutes since Anna disappeared into the ladies bathroom, and Hiccup had perched himself on the edge of one of the waiting room's seats, watching Merida as she paced a little back and forth. There was no real agitation in her footsteps, but it must be something she just does in uncertain situations such as this. She kept her head bowed down so her fiery curls covered the vast majority of her face. Probably a physical way to keep the world out while she dwelled in introspective thought.

His own mind wasn't terribly ordered either, which for the young aerospace heir, was a first. Just this morning he had received a call from Elsa, explaining the situation they were against. The threat of this 'Black' guy, Jack's plans, pretty much everything except for the fact that they were willing to kill to get what they wanted. One person, an apartment block of people, it didn't matter. People were commodities to these men, and that was something that didn't sit well with Hiccup. Not at all.

As far as the actual event, he was the least affected in a sense, but it still shook him.

Rising from the seat, he tentatively walked over to the pacing Scot, and reached out a gentle hand as she turned back. Her hair prevented her from seeing it, so when she felt the hand on her shoulder she stiffened as though she had been yanked out of a reverie. She didn't bat his hand away as he had expected, instead she leaned slightly into it.

"You okay?" he asked softly, feeling the cotton under his fingers.

Merida raised her head slightly, and Hiccup noticed one sky-blue eye peering at him between the curtains of flame.

"No…" she replied, her voice cracking a little. Hiccup offered a sympathetic smile and opened his left arm, and in a silent acknowledgement Merida stepped forward into the hug. He didn't say anything, because nothing really needed to be said. He was, however, aware of the ache inside him. The feeling that he  _really fucking missed Astrid._  Now, more than ever.

Merida broke the embrace shortly after. Hiccup reckoned that either she was unaccustomed to physical touch with someone she had met only a few hours prior, or just was used to dealing with things on her own. He did catch a glimpse of her eyes, though, and it pricked at his heart to see a redness appear in the white.

"I'm…I'm goin' ta tha cafeteria." she muttered, turning away and following the signs to her destination. Hiccup watched her leave before he remembered something that hung from his shoulder.

Her handbag, abandoned when she followed Elsa out of the bar.

"Merida, wait!" he called. She froze, and slowly turned to face him, an undefinable expression on her face.

"Your bag. It's not really my look. I'm more of a laptop bag guy." he offered awkwardly, trying to make her laugh. Sometimes even a chuckle can do wonders…and chuckle she did.

"Thanks, laddie." she half-smiled, accepting the bag offered to her before she turned back in the direction she was heading to. Hiccup watched her round the corner, and as though guided by some unknown force he pulled his smartphone out from his jacket and dialled Astrid's cell phone, making sure to put in the correct international code.

She answered on the third or fourth ring, her voice incredibly sleepy and a little grumpy. Hiccup inwardly winced and kicked himself for forgetting the time-zone difference. For his fiancé, it had to be something like five in the morning, yet only midnight for him.

" _Hiccup, do you have any idea what time it is?"_ she yawned down the phone.

"Yeah…sorry. I…I…I just wanted to call, and…"

Astrid's voice immediately became less sleepy and more concerned, and he imagined her suddenly sitting bolt upright on her bed.

" _Are you okay? Is something wrong?"_

Hiccup paused for a moment, wondering precisely how he was going to articulate what was going through his mind…but then he realised. He didn't really need to.

"I just wanted to hear your voice."

* * *

 

It had taken a while, but like all bouts of emotional outpouring eventually the tears subsided. Which was good, because Elsa's lungs were starting to hurt.

"Come on," Anna quietly murmured, gently lifting her sister's arms, "let's get you cleaned up."

Elsa nodded weakly, using her sister's arms to rise to her feet. It wasn't until her body had processed the maelstrom of emotions fighting inside her that she realised just how tired she was. All the adrenaline and single-mindedness that had gripped her body from the moment Phil called had made her mind compartmentalise anything that wasn't to do with getting Jack out. The sheer exertion of moving someone with the equivalent weight of sixty-nine one-kilo bags of sugar, albeit aided by Merida, had taken its toll on her muscles. Unconscious – or dead – humans are surprisingly heavy to move without their own muscle structure holding them up.

It wasn't until her mind had decided she was ready – whether she knew it or not – to process what had happened that her emotions rushed forth, and she realised just how much of it was a blur. Maybe that would rectify itself in time, maybe she would be able to recall things other than flames, smoke, and a motionless boyfriend. Until then, she was content to just let her mind sort itself out.

"Sorry about that," Elsa sniffed, taking one of the clean paper towels to wipe her eyes and nose, "I just…I needed to let it go, I think."

"Couldn't hold it back anymore?" Anna smirked, a glint in her eyes that Elsa did  _not_  miss. She narrowed her eyes and gave her a sarcastic  _"ha-ha"_  expression.

"Didn't say a word…" she followed up on that, blinking as her elder sister threw a scrunched-up paper towel at her in response. Fits of giggles overcame the pair, which was a welcome change from the grip of weeping only moments ago. Even with a mildly blackened face, Anna thought it was good to see her sister laugh. Even if just for a short time, it could distract her from the horrific event that put them in the hospital in the first place.

Laughter truly is the best medicine.

Anna soaked a couple of the paper towels and made a start on Elsa's forehead, humming to herself as she did so. The elder sister was just happy to listen; to let her go about her ministrations of cleaning, as though she was an anchor in this troubled time.

"Thank you." Elsa murmured, watching the light-blue eyes as they locked on to the next patch of soot to clean.

"For what?"

"For being my sister. For looking after me."

"No big deal," Anna replied nonchalantly, "although, I don't know  _how_  you're going to cope without me when I go to California. I mean, you can't even clean yourself."

Elsa rapped her sister's arm with mock-indignation, but couldn't help smiling at the joke.

"Although Jack could help you..." Anna teased airily, her eyebrows raised and her lips pursed with the weight of her humorous implications. Elsa rapped her once more.

"You know, for someone who acts all sweet and innocent, your mind is-"

"I don't know what you're implying, 'sis. I  _am_  sweet and innocent." Anna interrupted as she made a start on her sister's other cheek, her attempt to be stern undermined by the unstoppable curling of her mouth. Elsa was able to let out a full laugh now, ignoring the dull ache in her lungs.

"Seriously, thank you, for being here with me."

"Where else would I be? I'm your sister and I love you. And, for the record, I have never been more proud to be related to you. My badass, big heroine sister."

"I just did what you would do for Kristoff." Elsa muttered, a little bit uncomfortable with the praise but basking in the feeling of sisterly love that came with Anna's sincere words.

"Yeah, well, you did it a lot more gracefully than I would have done. Merida told me what Jack was like, so can you imagine me moving Kristoff? Seriously. I'd have to  _roll_ him off the bed and to the window…and  _lifting_  him over? Nightmare."

Elsa couldn't help but giggle at the mental image of Kristoff stuck halfway through the window, with Anna pushing against him like Wile E. Coyote against a particularly heavy boulder. She knew what her little sister was doing; Anna was trying to inject humour into a terrifying situation, ostensibly to take the edge off and make it easier to cope. It was working.

"And…done!" the little sister announced proudly, holding Elsa's chin and gently moving her head from side to side to check. The elder sister started to feel aware of how uncomfortable her braid was, so after pulling it over her shoulder she began to undo the hairstyle that was always associated with Elsa, CEO. In this moment, she just wanted to feel a semblance of calmness, so it had to go.

"Where is Kristoff, by the way?" she asked, halfway through her task. Anna gave her  _'oh, good question'_ and pulled her phone from her cardigan pocket to check the notifications screen.

"I sent him a message when Hiccup and I got here. He said he should be here soon. Shall we?" she asked, offering her arm to Elsa, who just that second had finished undoing her braid and was ruffling her fingers down the incredibly long, but ever so slightly dull platinum blonde hair. The length of time that it had been braided had given her locks a gentle wave, but rather than let it fall down her back she let most of it rest upon her left shoulder. She didn't know why, she was just fond of it like that.

"Yeah. I feel much better now. I'm ready for my close-up!" she smiled, a dry tone to her voice. Anna gave her a wink, and both sisters proceeded to leave the bathroom and the crippling tears behind them.

The sharp ache in her heart was still there though. The impatient hope that the tests would be done soon, and she could then be with him.

* * *

 

Hiccup had just finished talking to someone on the phone when Anna and Elsa emerged from the bathroom, and he raised an impressed eyebrow into his messy chocolate hair when he saw the casual yet elegant style that the elder sister's hair had taken on.

"You ladies okay?" he asked tentatively. Elsa gave him a grateful smile and nodded while Anna spoke.

"Yeah, we just needed to tidy Elsa up a bit. Everything alright?"

"Just talked to Astrid, told her what happened. She says she wishes she could be here for you guys." Hiccup answered, and the slight crack in his voice along with the look in his eyes sent a small pang through Elsa's chest, considering that was  _exactly_  how she was feeling.

"Where's-" Elsa began, but was interrupted by a six-foot-plus black blur across her vision that suddenly encompassed her little sister with a needing embrace. Momentarily taken aback by it, it took her a second to realise that Kristoff had literally just arrived, and was hugging Anna so tightly to the point that she had to tap him a few times to release her. Mutters were exchanged between them, most likely  _'are you okay's'_  and  _'what happened's',_  and when she cast a mildly amused sidelong glance at Hiccup she saw his face etched with discomfort. He noticed her thoughtful look and turned to the side to avert his gaze, awkwardly running his hand through his hair.

"You okay?" she softly asked, sidestepping the two entwined people and moving toward the pacing heir, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. Hiccup cast a couple of glances her way as he nervously smiled.

"Me? Oh, yeah…yeah. I'm fine," he waved dismissively; "I just miss Astrid, that's all. What about you?"

"I've been better, but I'm getting there. Do you know where Merida has gone? I didn't see her with you…" Elsa asked, her head scanning the people in the waiting room, none of them with the tell-tale hair. Hiccup inclined his head toward the corridor to his left, an expression of concern upon his face.

"She went to the cafeteria. I'd say she wants to be alone, but considering you two went through hell together she could probably use your company. I'll tell Anna where you've gone once she's finished…doing her thing."

Elsa chuckled and nodded her thanks, then turned to head down the corridor Hiccup had indicated, and while she walked her mind began to think about the brave Scot. Even though she only knew Merida for a matter of hours and a brief conversation over Skype prior to that, she felt a newfound bond to her that could only be forged by fire. Despite not knowing much about her other than she had three brothers, was heir to a whisky company that was under threat, was Jack's best friend in high school and that she was fiercely independent and single, she trusted the young Scot with her life. She seemed so brave, so fearless, that Elsa was glad for her assistance in rescuing Jack.

Which is why she was taken aback when she finally entered the cafeteria.

Merida was sat at one of the clinical looking circular bistro tables, her shoulders a little drooped as she clutched her cell phone, staring at the screen. The red curls were still loose, and covered her neck, shoulders and the right half of her face. She looked far removed from the tall, proud, strong woman that not long ago was breaking in a window to save a friend.

Elsa was about to take a step forward into the cafeteria proper and ask if she was okay, but then something happened that took her aback for the second time.

With a voice that was slightly husky, but possessing all the softness of a mother singing a lullaby, Merida began to sing.

 

_A naoidhean bhig, cluinn mo ghuth  
Mise ri d' thaobh, O mhaighdean bhàn_

 

In a strange way, it halted the processing of the rescue in Elsa's thoughts and instantly brought her to a faraway land, where the grass was lush and the sky was a baby blue. Where the air was clean and the colours were vibrant, and the people were proud and brave.

 

_Ar rìbhinn òg, fàs a's faic  
Do thìr, dìleas féin_

 

For Merida, it was a reminder. A recollection of warm arms, of loving embraces. Smiling faces and soothing tones. Brawls in high school and the finding of a kindred spirit, and a bond of friendship unbroken by time or distance…and the forging of one in flames.

 

_A ghrian a's a ghealach, stiùir sinn  
Gu uair ar cliù 's ar glòir_

 

And in Merida's mind as she sang, the harmony of two voices echoing the words in her mind. One of an older, wiser woman and the other of a little girl that felt the fear just wash away.

 

_Naoidhean bhig, ar rìbhinn òg  
Maighdean uasal bhàn_

 

Elsa hadn't noticed during the ethereal, soothing song that she had been leaning against the doorframe simply listening to Merida sing, and when the Scot's sky-blue eyes flicked up from the screen to her face, she felt a little guilt, as though she was eavesdropping on a private moment.

And yet, Merida wasn't fazed. It was like she knew Elsa was standing there all the time.

"Ye okay there, lassie?" she softly asked, and Elsa found coherent speech proving difficult.

"Y-Yes…I was just…I…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry. You just…you have a lovely voice, and that song was beautiful."

Merida smiled a little. It wasn't wide, warm or happy, but acknowledging. It was the smile that curls the lips when someone is remembering a happy memory, and they're clinging onto it for grim death. She gestured with her head to the empty seat opposite, and taking the unspoken invitation Elsa quietly walked over and sat. She saw something on Merida's cheek that she didn't expect, but declined to call attention to it – a solitary tear that was making its way to her chin.

"It's an old Gaelic song, called  _Noble Maiden Fair._ " she answered, her eyes falling away from Elsa's and resting once more upon the screen. Exhaling deeply through her nose, she blinked a few times and with her right hand, wiped away the tear.

"When I was a wee bairn, there wasnae much tha' could scare me. Bigger kids, tha dark, I wasnae afraid of anything…but thunder? Ay, tha' was terrifyin'. I used ta run screamin' to ma mammy whenever I heard tha storm comin', an' hold onto 'er like she was ma lifeline."

"An' whenever I did, she'd pick me up, hold me close and sing tha' song ta me. No matter if tha storm was right o'er our heads, mammy's voice'd always chase ma fear away. An' sometimes, I'd sing with 'er too…and then everythin' would be alright."

She smiled at the screen, and then surprised Elsa by passing the phone over to her. What Merida had been staring at was a photograph which Elsa presumed had been professionally taken. Two adults were stood at the back, one man and one woman, with their hands on Merida's shoulders. The Scot herself was sat on a chair in front of them, and three young boys sat cross-legged in front of her. Every one of them had Merida's characteristic hair colour and curliness, except for the man who wore a moustache that seemed to be wider than his face. The woman, however, had long brown hair and her face spoke of elegance and refinement, of poise and resolve. Elsa surmised that this must be Merida's family, and each one of them wore wide smiles of happiness.

"She tol' me that whenever I'm scared, that I should sing. An' right now, Elsa, I'm more scared than I've ever been."

Elsa handed the phone back to Merida who accepted it gratefully, eager to rest her eyes upon her family once more.

"Jack's been like a brother ta me, an' now e's in hospital 'cause this Black company put 'im there. It doesnae matter ta them if 'e had died in tha fire, but it matters ta me…'cause tha company behind all this is in  _my_  Scotland, tryin' ta buy ma  _mother's_  business. I'm scared 'cause I'm five thousan' miles away, and I cannae help 'em. I cannae be there for ma mammy."

She saw it, another tear that followed the path of the first. Not much of Merida's face was visible, but what Elsa could see was wracked with uncertainty and powerlessness. She wasn't broken by any stretch of the imagination, and Elsa knew  _that_  because with some people, you get a vibe of strength and courage…but she was definitely shaken. Merida took a deep breath and deeply frowned, and a fire ignited in her eyes as they snapped up to Elsa, who felt herself shrink a little under the gaze.

"When I landed, I wasnae sure wha' I was supposed ta do, but now I am. I'm nae gonna let this slide, lassie. No-one tries ta kill ma bestie or threatens ma mammy and gets away wi' it. Whatever ye need of me, Elsa, ye'll have it."

* * *

 

It hadn't been long after Merida's indirect – or direct, depending on your point of view – declaration of war that the nurse had calmly entered the cafeteria and alerted Elsa's attention to the thing that she had been craving since they had arrived.

"He's in the ward now. The doctor has a few questions for you, but after that you'll be able to see him, if you'd like to follow me?"

Elsa had practically catapulted the chair backwards with the crook of her knees, such was the force with which she stood, and even Merida looked a little startled.

The nurse led them back down the corridor that Elsa had walked previously, and as they passed the waiting room, Hiccup, Anna and Kristoff followed suit. To anyone that was standing a relatively decent distance ahead watching the group make their way down the corridor, all that would be needed was a slow-motion camera shot, empowering music and maybe a couple of oversized firearms…

…or maybe that was just Hiccup's imagination.

The nurse pushed through a set of blue double-swing doors with the letter 'E' emblazoned above them and held one open while the group filed in, and led them down the ward towards a private room at the end and through the window, Elsa could see a tall, elderly doctor scribble down notes while another nurse mouthed readings to him. He paused when the escorting nurse knocked twice on the door and poked her head through, and while she murmured something to him, Elsa stepped over to the window and peered in. A small gasp escaped her lips, and she felt that oh so familiar ache in her eyes once more.

Jack was indeed in the room, dressed in a hospital gown and tucked surprisingly neatly under the covers. A nasal cannula wrapped around his face, with the two prongs delivering precious oxygen into his nose. His skin was paler than normal, and his face was completely empty as it had been when they found him in his room. Her eyes traced down his right arm where an intravenous cannula was taped to his right hand, which also bore a few butterfly stitches on his knuckles.

It hit Elsa right in the heart. It was only that morning he was holding her in his arms, joking about stripping naked in the meeting room, casually stretching out in one of the chairs as they took the first step as a unified company. It was only that evening that she gazed into his eyes at the bar, so full of affection and love. Now he was lying in a hospital bed, looking far removed from the smirking, confident man she had fallen for, nearly taken from her by an amoral company.

_Please be okay, Jack._

She felt a hand on her shoulder and slowly turned to find Merida's eyes gazing supportively into her own, and she gave a weak smile to acknowledge the gesture. It could have meant many things, but Elsa took it as  _'I meant what I said earlier'_.

The nurse stood aside to open the door wide and allow the doctor through, and the group noted the slight limp with which he walked. Elsa stiffened and stepped forward, anxious to hear everything that he had to say.

"I've got to return to my shift in the Emergency department, so I'll leave you in the capable hands of Doctor Killian." the nurse said, her tone even but soft, and without another word she strode off to her original tasks.

All eyes shifted to the man who was leafing through the medical records and the notes that he had been scribbling, and he leaned against the frame of the door as he regarded Elsa and Merida with a studious look, and every chest in the group felt the nervous anticipation of his next few words.

"I have a few questions before I let you know how he is. Firstly, which two of you go by the names of Merida Dunbroch and Elsa Snowfield?"

The two women stood forward, Elsa wringing her hands a little while Merida folded her own arms across her chest, and indicated it was them to whom he was referring.

"Okay. I'm going to ask you some very important questions, and the reason I am asking them is so I can get a clearer picture as to his condition."

"First off, can you describe how you found him?" he asked, eyes firmly upon Elsa who took the floor to respond.

"I found him laid on his bed, as though he was asleep."

"Was he responsive, unresponsive? Did he react at all to when you two pulled him from the apartment?"

"No, he seemed completely dead to the world. Why?"

Doctor Killian exhaled through his nose, and Elsa got the distinct impression that his face was telling a story of  _'that's what I was afraid of'_  as he glanced back down to his notes.

"It is my professional opinion that Mr Overland was administered with some form of sedative prior to the fire, and as I see no record of substance abuse in Mr Overland's file-"

"Jacky-boy was no druggie!" Merida interrupted, causing the man to regard her with an annoyed glare.

"- _it means_  that as per hospital policy I am compelled to inform the police, as the presence of a sedative in this situation in addition to the bruising on his abdomen and neck, alongside what appears to be defensive wounds on his knuckles indicates attempted homicide."

He glanced at each of the faces in the room, and was surprised inside to find that no-one seemed to pale, flinch, or display a reaction of any sort, as though it was obvious to them, though Elsa's face winced at the mention of  _bruising_  and  _defensive wounds._

_You needn't bother_.

"Now, about the condition of Mr Overland himself. Upon his arrival we took a chest X-ray, and it indicated a mild inflammation of his respiratory system, and an examination of his throat showed much the same. Given his body position at the time and with the presence of the sedative, I would say that Mr Overland is extremely lucky that it was not worse, due both to your actions and the shallow breathing under the sedative. I would say that he should make a swift and full recovery fairly soon, though he may suffer with a cough over the next week or two."

Sounds of relief were heard throughout the group, with Elsa feeling it the most. Even when the signs suggest that it's going to be okay, there's always a small chance that it won't.

"Can we see him?" she asked, her voice cracking under the lump in her throat.

"Of course, but your conversations may be a little one-sided until he wakes up…"

He raised a hand as soon as he saw Elsa's mouth open once more, answering her question before she even had a chance to ask it.

"I can't say when that will be, unfortunately. We took some blood tests when he arrived, and until I get the results I won't know what sedative was used. It may be tonight, it might be tomorrow night. It might be never, if whoever administered it gave him an incorrect dosage which – again – I won't know until I get the test results."

The last part of his sentence pulled the rug from under Elsa's feet. The minutes before that, she had been holding to the fact that he was going to be okay – a little hoarse and probably sore, but okay. Now, the doctor had quite matter-of-factly said  _'yes, he's going to be fine…_ if _he wasn't overdosed on the sedative'_ , and it did little to ease the worry inside her, which was starkly evident in her expression of dismay.

"He's going to be fine, 'sis." Anna said, her voice as supportive as she could make it. Ever the optimist.

"I have a few other patients to see, so I'll leave you to it. I will say this, though; if not for the actions of yourself and Miss Dunbroch, we could be having an entirely different conversation. He's lucky to have you both."

On that high note, he left the group and went about his patient list. Elsa didn't waste another second; she had already pushed the door open and was by his bedside before anyone had noticed she had even moved. She did what she had been craving to do since they arrived, and that was the simple act of holding his hand. She felt a tiny sting when his fingers did not respond as they always did, but she told herself that they would, in time.

She gently stroked his forehead and hair with her left hand, taking care not to nudge the cannula with her motions, and as she gazed sadly upon his form she remembered the state he was in when she was fiercely trying to pull him out of the room. His skin had been almost grey from the blackened atmosphere, but after the staff had cleaned him up a little he looked almost brand new, his colour pale but fairly healthy. She leaned over and placed a kiss as soft as fresh snow upon his forehead, feeling a small tear slide down and land in his hair.

"Stupid bastard shoulda run."

Elsa heard the unmistakeable Scottish accent on her right, red curls appearing in her peripheral vision.

"Would you?" she asked, her eyes still on her boyfriend. Merida shook her head, not that Elsa noticed.

"Nah. I've always been a fighter jus' like Jacky-boy…but next time tha silly bastard runs."

Elsa blinked a few times, and her hand involuntarily squeezed the inert fingers that she had been holding since she walked in the room, and she spoke with all the certainty in the world.

"There won't  _be_  a next time, Merida."

* * *

 

Four in the morning had come and gone, and it was now quarter to five.

Anna, Kristoff and Hiccup had left about two hours ago, and Phil had swung by just before they left to see Jack with his own eyes. They had talked in depth about what happened, with the burly co-CEO respectfully nodding his appreciation for Elsa and Merida's actions earlier that night. Elsa had noticed that his demeanour didn't really change upon seeing Jack or the recounting of the rescue, which had puzzled Elsa a little until he had removed his coat to reveal two things: a pink  _Olaf the Snowman_  t-shirt that just barely covered a ridiculously well-muscled torso, and a tattoo on his forearm. Elsa didn't initially recognise the black and grey design; a globe on which an eagle perched, with an anchor drawn behind the back. It wasn't until she saw the letters  _U.S.M.C_. under the design that she understood what it meant – in his youth, Phil had served in the Marine Corps.

It must have been a lifetime ago, but it would explain why in the ninety minutes he had spent with them that he was so stoic in his demeanour.

Half an hour ago, Merida had started to fall asleep in her chair as the exhaustion of the day, in addition to the sorry excuse of a nap she had taken when she arrived at Elsa's house had sunk its claws into her and refused to let go. Phil had offered to drive her back to Elsa's home, and upon receiving the zip code for the satellite navigation system in his phone, they had bade their goodbyes and left Elsa in peace.

She was laid on the pull-out bed reserved for those in private rooms, which used to be the chair she had been sat on for the three hours since she had walked into the room. The attending nurse had asked whether she wanted to stay for the night to be with him or return home, and when she indicated the former they had converted the chair into a functional single bed. It was slightly uncomfortable, but she didn't care. She was with Jack, and they were safe.

She stayed awake as long as she could, hoping to be there to see his eyes flutter open and be right there when they did, to say  _'Hey there, Frost. You're okay. I love you'_ , but as much as she tried to fight it, the same exhaustion that took Merida had become unstoppable. Her eyelids took on the weight of stone, and reluctantly she allowed her body to descend into deep slumber.

When five o'clock arrived and the nurse went about the hourly observations, Jack's eyes fluttered open. He could barely make anything out as the only illumination came from a soft light above him, for which he was grateful as the first thing his head felt was a serious pounding that seemed to encompass his entire skull.

"Oh, welcome back Mr Overland."

The voice from somewhere to his left was muffled as though he was hearing it underwater, and as his eyes shifted slowly to the source he could make out the tell-tale uniform of a hospital nurse. He tried to read the name badge on her scrubs, but couldn't quite make out the words.

_Katherine? Katrina? Kathryn? Catwoman?_

"You're safe, sir. You're in a hospital. My name is Catelyn, and I'll be your nurse for tonight."

_Hospital? How did I get here?_

"Do you remember anything about what happened?"

Jack tried to remember. He searched every inch of his memory after falling asleep in his own bed, the last thing he saw being the Christmas photograph on his screensaver. It was blurry, muffled voices and hazy images, like trying to remember something from another lifetime where you spent most of it drunk – which was fairly accurate, because the closest thing that Jack could equate his current state to was one hell of a hangover.

He shook his head as slowly as possible, trying not to antagonise the beast of pain in his skull. The nurse nodded and smiled as though it was an answer she had been expecting.

"Okay, no problem. I just thought I'd ask."

Jack felt the touch of smooth plastic surround his upper left arm and heard the sound of furious pumping, heralding a squeezing sensation on his bicep as well as a slight hissing as the pressure began to abate. The nurse uttered a pleased  _'hm'_  as she jotted something down, and then removed the plastic from his arm.

"Where's…Elsa?" he tried to speak, his throat sore and his voice scratchy, every word a victory.

_Why does it hurt to breathe and talk?_

The nurse inclined her head to Jack's right, and following her gesture he slowly, achingly moved his head to the right, and amidst all the pain, disorientation and confusion, a feeling of warmth and love simmering in his heart as his eyes came to rest upon his girlfriend, her shoulders gently rising and falling as she slept peacefully. His face, like the rest of his body, still felt like lead but he couldn't help the smile on his dry lips.

"She's been dying to see you. Would you like me to wake her?" the nurse asked, her voice sounding to Jack like she was a world away.

"No…let her…sleep."


	33. What You Are in the Dark

" _I have the laptop. Our IT experts believe there is some sort of encryption on the software but they say it is far above their level of expertise so they are loathed to attempt hacking it. How adept are your software analysts? – Pritchard"_

Hans stared at the message for a while, enduring the disoriented feeling of being woken up at nine o'clock by a message. He rubbed his face a few times, trying to re-energise his brain so he could work out precisely what the  _fuck_  Pritchard was on about.

_Laptop? Encryption? Did I miss a memo? The fuck is going on?_

" _what laptop? ours r pretty gud, why? – Hans"_

" _It's better if you don't know. I have a meeting with the Duke at one o'clock; I'd like you to be there. This could be the end of our troubles with Fractal Fashion and North Pole. – Pritchard"_

Hans shook his head in disbelief, and closed the message screen. He tried to recall the nightmare that he had only a few hours previously, where the black sand was up to the boy's neck. Only a few more minutes, and he would be under the surface. Swinging his legs out of the bed, he staggered out of his apartment's bedroom and went straight to the instant coffee-maker, feeling the need to jump-start his system before he did anything else. As per his usual routine, he switched on his kitchen television and navigated to the local news network while he prepared his morning drink.

His phone vibrated in his hand once more, and he rolled his eyes at the prospect of yet another message from Pritchard…but was surprised to find it was from the Duke.

" _Switch over to the news. Now. – Weselton"_

Hans frowned. The Duke  _never_ messaged him. As far as he knew, his phone number was not available to the partner of his parents' firm. So what changed?

Obliging the 'order', he nearly dropped his mug when he found out precisely  _what_.

_An apartment caught fire last night in the Winter Apartment Complex in the city of Arendelle. Firefighters were quick to respond to a nine-one-one call made at the scene. There have been no injuries or deaths, thanks to the efforts of two women who bravely entered the burning apartment and rescued the owner. Arson investigations are underway, though preliminary tests indicate a grease fire may have been responsible._

Hans quickly placed the mug on his kitchen counter and raced over to his living room floor, lifting off the false floorboard and hammering in the code to his safe. He knew that apartment name from somewhere.

Opening the hatch, he pulled out the first document, the one that he had hidden, and Jackson Overland's face peered up at him from the photograph. With his breath catching, Hans quickly scanned the words on the document until he found what he was looking for.

_Address: Number Four, Winter Apartments._

"Motherfucker…" he hissed, re-reading the words to make sure he wasn't seeing things. He tossed the document back into the safe and slammed it shut with a clang, the sound reverberating in his ears like he was standing too close to a church bell. He darted over to his phone on the kitchen counter and furiously typed out a message.

" _u son of a bitch. – Hans"_

" _Excuse me? Watch your tone, Southernisle. – Pritchard"_

" _that fire last nite, that was u, wasnt it? U tried to kill Overland! – Hans"_

He stared at the screen for a good few minutes, his hands slightly shaking with the revelation. This was beyond what anything that the Black heir had done before. This was too…visible. Black and Southernisle worked in relative secrecy, behind the scenes, manipulating events and quietly ousting company directors. They didn't go around setting fire to apartment complexes; there was too great a risk of it being traced back to them.

Eventually, Pritchard's reply came back, and it sparked a feeling of infuriation and horrified comprehension in Hans's gut.

" _It is none of your business what I do with the resources at my disposal. One o'clock. Be there. – Pritchard"_

Hans wiped a hand down his face as the gravity of the situation crashed down on him like a monsoon. His friend had gone too far, and though he was loathed to admit it, he actually  _missed_  Richard Black.

His eyes fell upon the exposed safe in his living room floor as for the first time in years he became worried about what the future held.

* * *

 

_If I hear the beeping of hospital monitors again, it'll be too soon._

Jack had been awake since five that morning, completely and utterly unable to sleep. He had been trying to make sense of what the nurse had told him when he had asked her why he had woken up in hospital, feeling groggy as fuck and as hoarse as a thirty-a-day smoker.

" _You were in a fire, Mr Overland. The doctor thinks you were injected with a sedative beforehand."_

He couldn't remember anything about a fire, and  _definitely_ couldn't recall anything about a sedative. Maybe it was better that way, but Jack hated not knowing. He had rasped a question about the block of his short-term memory that was missing, and the nurse's answer was less than helpful but more than foreboding.

" _With some sedatives, Mr Overland, short-term amnesia is common. Your memory may come back in time, or it may not."_

However, he did get one good answer to his final question, but it split him with resounding love yet equal guilt.

" _You were rescued from the fire by two people, Mr Overland. One of them was a rather hot-tempered young lady from…Scotland, I think. The other is sleeping right over there."_

Jack had then slowly turned his head and rested his eyes upon the slumbering form of Elsa, her hair draped slightly unceremoniously across her face. He couldn't quite believe that, along with Merida, she had saved his life. Then again, she did it before.

He just couldn't remember a thing about it, and it killed him because he had no idea how he was going to thank her, he had no recollection of the gravity of the situation that Elsa had thrust herself into.

So, he spent the four hours until nine o'clock that morning staring at magazines, not really reading the words nor looking at the pictures, just…thinking. Hoping for an epiphany, to find the key that would unlock the gap in his memory, to maybe find something that would either confirm or debunk the theory that had been churning his gut ever since the nurse had explained what she could. The worry that Black and Southernisle had traced the pass-the-shares game back to him, and tried to dispose of him.

Truth be told, however, his thoughts were dominated by the woman sleeping to the side of him. He had never watched her sleep, and she looked so peaceful. He loved her so much, and he hated that he had been put in a position where she had to risk her own safety to get him out. He wondered what he was going to say when she woke up.

He didn't have to wonder for long.

He was halfway through not-reading about a piano-playing cat when he heard movement from the right, and with a greater ease he moved his head to watch her as she began to ascend to the waking world. He felt a smile creep across his face as with her back turned to him she made cute little moaning sounds as she stirred, and her left hand rose up to run itself through her long and slightly bed-swept hair. Amusement hinted in his heart as she pushed herself up from the bed with her right arm, making those little grumble noises that people make when they slept peacefully yet for not long enough. She sat, her eyes closed as she rubbed a hand down her face in an effort to wake up.

"Rough night?" he rasped, the words coming a little easier but still quite hoarse.

"You have no idea, Jack." she muttered, and he carefully snickered to himself. He waited patiently for the epiphany to strike.

She froze with her hand halfway down her face as one eye snapped open and darted to him in between her fingers, and with a gasp that annoyed her lungs she scrambled from her bed and rushed into Jack's waiting arms, burying herself in his neck and not even caring whether or not she had knocked into his cannula.

Jack felt the breath escape from his lungs with how tightly and how close she held him, felt a sharp pain in his abdomen when he wrapped his arms around her. He didn't care about the pain. It was nothing compared to how  _good_  this felt. To have her in his arms once more. He couldn't get enough of it, and likely never will. He breathed in her scent, still a little smoky from the fire he couldn't remember, but still exactly like her.

"You have no idea how happy I am to see you're awake!" she mumbled into his shoulder, squeezing him just that little bit more. He tried to reply, but given the embrace he was enjoying plus the tightness of how she held him, it came out as a hoarse whisper. She realised it and instantly pulled back, and Jack could see in between coughs that her eyes were slightly wet.

"Actually…I've been awake…for a few hours…" he replied. She frowned at him, almost sadly.

"Why didn't you wake me up?" she whispered, her hand stroking his temple. Jack shrugged.

"Well, I figured you needed your sleep. Plus, from what I hear, you saved some idiot from a burning apartment so…."

He coughed again; the act of talking was pissing his throat off that much. Elsa winced and reached over for the plastic cup of water that was sat on his table. Jack gratefully accepted it and sipped at first, then took deeper swigs when he could. She was about to rebuke him for the 'idiot' remark, but went for a more meaningful question instead.

"Do you remember anything?"

Jack stopped drinking, and gently shook his head as he stared at the blanket covering his legs, an expression of vulnerability on his face. Elsa felt a pang of something in her gut – she saw it, she saw the hallway burning, the flames licking his bedroom ceiling as Merida answered the heat with her extinguisher. He spoke again, but it was subdued and quiet, his voice cracking not because of the rawness.

"What happened?"

Elsa didn't answer immediately, it's one of those questions where the simpler choice is to state the blunt and unequivocal truth, yet the heart wants you to sugar-coat it, to phrase it in such a way that the asker is…protected. Her hesitation was palpable, and Jack turned his gaze over to her. Evidently it was bad, judging by the way her bottom lip sat between her teeth and her eyes danced between his left and right orbs.

"It was Southernisle. They found out where you lived, and broke in while you must have been asleep…they injected you with some kind of drug and left you in bed while they set fire to your apartment."

The words fell heavy on Jack's heart like solemn lead had infused it, her explanation confirming his theory. His cup-hand fell to his lap and his gaze retreated back to the blanket over his legs. Elsa caught a glimpse of his eyes before they were hidden once more, and the twinkle that existed there moments before she had wrapped her arms around him upon her awakening was gone.

"You did try to fight them off, though. The doctor said you had defensive wounds, so I guess you gave them hell before they got you." she added hopefully, and Jack imperceptibly nodded in response.

It was near enough silence from him from then on, for what could have been a short time yet felt like an eternity. Thinking logically as she always did, she completely understood why. He said he didn't remember a thing about what happened, and then to find out that his apartment and everything he had accumulated – his music, his games, practically his entire life inside those walls had been reduced to smouldering cinders was a bitter and heavy pill to swallow. She knew he needed time to process and understand it, even if he couldn't recall anything.

She had been concerned that it would have set him back down the path he had walked before they met, however…but one thing Jack did completely did away with that thought. He raised his right arm and moved it out of the way while he slowly and clumsily shuffled to the left, and it took Elsa a second to realise what he was doing. Initially she was cautious, given that it was a hospital bed and she wasn't exactly the patient, but there was a look on Jack's face that said  _'please'_. So, she obliged both her own desires and his, and clambered onto the bed to snuggle up to him. She rested her head on his right shoulder and cautiously draped her arm over his chest, and when his arm lowered itself onto her, she let out a contented sigh and nuzzled closer to him. Finally, he spoke once more.

"Thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"The nurse told me it was you that got me out of there." he explained. Elsa gently squeezed his chest in response.

"You'd do the same for me, but don't forget Merida. I couldn't have done it without her."

"…and she won't let either of us forget that." he groaned, prompting a small chuckle.

They had laid like that for a while, neither of them making any attempt to move and even the nurse who came in for the next round of observations had to firmly tell the two lovebirds to part company even for five minutes while she administered the examinations, starting with his respiration.  _That_  was a pain in the ass…or more accurately, lungs. Having Elsa hold his hand as she sat on the edge of her bed was a massive help though.

"Shall we tell the others?" Jack asked while the nurse busied herself with pumping the blood pressure cuff. Elsa shook her head quite vigorously, which amused the hell out of him.

"Nah," she answered, reinforcing her point, "I want you all to myself for as much time as I can get. Just you and me."

Jack grinned and nodded his agreement. Peace and quiet with Elsa was order of the day for him.

"How am I looking?" he asked the nurse who was clipping on a pulse oximeter to his finger. She stared at the display with an expression similar to the Obama  _'Not Bad'_  meme that he had seen all over the internet.

"Your stats are looking pretty good. How are you feeling?"

"Throat and lungs still feel like shit…I mean, crap. Stomach feels like someone kicked me. Other than that, pretty good." he answered, glancing at Elsa. The nurse nodded in approval.

"Well, it's up to the doctor, but I'd say you should be ready for discharge today. We'll wait to see what Doctor Killian says, though."

Elsa's face lit up and she smiled warmly, lacing her fingers around Jack's and softly stroking his hand with her thumb.

"Right," the nurse announced, writing down the last of the observations on his medical notes, "That's it for now. I'll be back in an hour for your next set."

"Can't wait." Jack muttered dryly.

He watched the nurse leave the room and close the door behind her, and allowed himself to relax once more. Medical observations  _had_  to be done, there were no two ways about it, but there was no rule that said he had to  _like_  them. He cast a sidelong glance at Elsa, whose smile still illuminated her tired yet happy face.

"Did you hear that? You can go home today!" she said, her voice full of cheer. Jack let out a deep sigh as he gazed mournfully at the door.

"I don't have a home anymore."

He could see Elsa rise to her feet and felt the soft touch of her fingers on his jaw, and ever so gently she guided his face towards her. Staring into her eyes, he felt the curious dual sensation of shrinking under a fiery gaze, but heartening with the emotion that was being expressed through them, which intensified when her next words were spoken with all the conviction in the world.

"Yes you do."

* * *

 

He almost didn't open the car door.

Hans had arrived at the Southernisle building approximately an hour away from Arendelle City at precisely quarter to one, and the churning in his gut only grew when he stared at the main entrance through his passenger window.

The building was fairly elegant, loosely based on eighteenth century affluent architecture but ostensibly designed for a functional and adept law firm. However, the beauty of the establishment was only skin deep, as inside held one of the most corrupt firms in the country. The moral part of Hans had acidly noted that it reflected Southernisle & Weselton as a whole – all style, no substance.

He glanced down at the handful of white stone steps that led people into the den of thieves, and found he was hesitating further. What would await him as he passed through the doors? Ordinarily he would be indifferent as the prospect of leading the company long lost its appeal, but the lead ball of trepidation in his stomach was not to be dissuaded so easily.

A knock on the window from the security guard jerked him out of his thought, and he came to the conclusion that he was here now, he might as well find out what was going to happen.

Ten minutes later he was walking towards the firm's IT room, having been directed there by the pretty receptionist at the front desk. Eyes followed him as he walked, and he knew exactly why. He was wearing his casual clothes, light blue denim trousers with a  _Ramones_  t-shirt under a denim jacket while everyone else wore suits. Apparently being twelfth in line – which meant he wouldn't see leadership in his lifetime – meant that he should still adhere to clothing regulations. He didn't give a flying fuck right now, which surprised him.

Opening the door, he was greeted with ten different computer screens, all with either documents or internet pages glaring at the typists. This was where evidence was collected or uploaded onto the firm's mainframe, terabytes upon terabytes of data upon which the company relied for their legal ventures. The Duke wasn't stupid; anything that was illegal, like the blackmailing of directors or CEOs, or the 'disappearing' of people was kept as hard copies in their paper documentation room, forests worth of paper hidden inside steel filing cabinets. It was part of the paranoid and obsessional nature of the Duke – everything had to be on paper and filed away, in alphabetical, chronological or numerical order. Even off-the-books operations like the interrogation of the stockbroker in New York, and quite possibly the attempt on Jackson Overland's life would have been filed within those cabinets.

Hans had silently remarked to himself once upon a time that if the justice department was ever to get their hands on those documents, it would be Southernisle's downfall.

"Ah, you're early! Good. We can begin."

He turned his gaze towards the group of men stood at the other end of the room staring at something he couldn't quite see. Pritchard stood a head over the Duke, and he was wearing a satisfied, anticipatory smile on his hawkish features. He reminded Hans of one of those contestants on  _Family Feud_ , waiting to see if the answer they gave to Steve Harvey was the right one or not.

The Duke, however, wore an expression of uncertain distrust. Twice now had his authority over the 'cleaners' had been superseded, and they had been sent on errands without first consulting him. He didn't like being left out of the loop. It took away control…and the only reason that Southernisle had survived this long was  _because_ of the Duke's control. He knew as soon as Pritchard took over the leadership of Black Advertising that no good would come of it.

Hans walked over to the three men, who were stood behind a smaller man who wore large glasses, all of them staring at the screen of a laptop which Hans presumed to be Jackson's. He wondered whether or not Pritchard knew that his 'rival' had survived the fire, and one glance at the almost predatory glint in his friend's eyes told him that he was unaware.

"What's happening?" he asked to no-one in particular, but the Duke was the one to answer.

"Overland has some form of encryption software on his computer, and we have been working to break it so we can access his desktop. As soon as that happens, we will find which website it was that he used and attempt to crack the login code."

"Once we do that," Pritchard continued, an almost manic tone to his voice, "we'll have access to his majority stock. Fractal Fashion will be ours, and the Pole will be next."

The Duke fixed him with a glare through his large circular glasses, and his moustache twitched with disapproval.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Acquisition targets are under your  _father_ 's control, not yours. Remember that."

"Of course." Pritchard smirked, and winked at Hans. The Duke straightened his posture and caught the Southernisle heir's attention, and inclined his head toward the door that he had just entered through.

"Mr Southernisle, if you would accompany me to my office please? There are some things we need to discuss."

Hans stiffened a little and his eyes glanced over to Pritchard, who took on an expression of  _'oooh, you're in trouble now'_. The Duke swept by them without a word, and with the lead ball in his stomach taking on an even greater density, Hans followed him out of the IT room and down the corridor to the Duke's personal office.

It was on the second floor so they had to ascent a flight of curved stairs, and the acoustics in the huge marbled stairwell magnified the individual steps they took. Each one filled Hans with trepidation, but he didn't know why. Perhaps it was due to the fact that the Duke almost  _never_  saw him; any liaisons with the family either involved his parents or the eldest sons. So, for the twelfth, forgotten son to be summoned to the Duke's office out of the blue?

Did he know about his insurance folder?

After reaching the top of the flight of stairs, the Duke strode past several other doors in the fairly quiet corridor, the illumination provided mostly by the tall, elegant window at the other end that proudly gave them a view of the well-tended trees outside. Paintings of famous people and historical landmarks adorned the walls, though Hans had always wondered if they were copies or the real deal.

All in all, it gave the Southernisle building a very opulent, yet decadent feel.

The Duke pushed open the door to his office which was huge and decorated in much the same way as the corridor they had just walked along, however the obsessional nature of the eponymous partner came across in how things were organised. There were no knick-knacks on his desk, any documents or books were arranged neatly and carefully, to the point that anyone who was fortunate enough to enter this office would have to be  _very_  careful about even  _touching_  anything.

"Close the door behind you, please."

Hans obliged and gently shut the door, his eyes on the Duke as he strode over to his desk and sat down in the high-backed, vintage leather chair. He met the heir's eyes, and gestured to one of the smaller seats, also arranged meticulously opposite the desk. Hans, with his nerves becoming increasingly apparent, obeyed the will of the Duke and took the seat directly opposite.

The older man leaned forward with his elbows on the desk, his fingers horizontally lacing themselves together under his wide and pointed nose, and fixed Hans with a searching expression. The young man shuffled uncomfortably in his seat under the piercing stare, and the silence was beginning to deafen him.

"How strong is your loyalty to Pritchard Black?"

The Duke's words took Hans completely off-guard, and yet on some level he was expecting them. Rumours had reached his ears of dissent within the Southernisle ranks regarding Black's temporary leadership, and though the partnership with the corporation was beneficial to both of them – therefore ruling out the option of cutting ties – the increasingly erratic and notably high-profile ventures led by Pritchard had prompted the law firm to start considering options.

"I don't understand the question, sir." he answered, playing stupid. He wasn't about to lay his cards on the table  _just_  yet, he wanted to know where the Duke stood.

"The board of directors, your parents and I feel that under Pritchard's leadership, the subtlety with which we operate and the relative… _legality_ …is being compromised by his petulant, child-like behaviour. Many times now have we had to clean up the mess he has left behind, and we feel that he has to stop, and as such we are considering options that will revert things to the status quo before he took the helm."

"You're going to oust him."

The Duke leaned back in his chair but kept his fingers laced together in a pyramid as his elbows rested on the armrests. The searching expression was still on his face, but Hans felt a notable dwindling in the trepidation.

"Possibly. While his methodology in obtaining Overland's computer has been…dramatic to say the least, he has delivered the means with which we could put an end to this. However…he is on thin ice. In short, how we proceed is dependent on the next few hours. So, I'll ask again – how strong is your loyalty to him?"

That was it. The Duke had shown his hand, and Hans felt a glimmer of relief in his chest.

"If you had asked me three years ago, sir, I would have said it was strong. Now…I think he's becoming way too unstable and it's causing me to really question my friendship with him. If you do intend to oust him, sir, I won't get in the way. Actually…I like the idea."

* * *

 

Jack absentmindedly poked the hospital lunch with his fork, his appetite having been long lost as a result of the recent visit by the police.

He didn't know what the hell to tell them, and his throat had become so angry halfway through their incessant questions that many times Elsa had to intervene and act as his voice, especially when she knew far more about what happened than he did. He could tell the detectives were getting frustrated with the lack of clear information provided by either of the young CEOs, given that any evidence of foul play would have been destroyed by the fire.

However, as soon as Elsa mentioned their belief that Southernisle was behind it, both detectives stiffened and exchanged looks of  _'oh for fuck's sake'_. Jack got the impression that these were good, honest, straight-as-an-arrow detectives whose hands were tied by the insidious law firm, and ergo knew that there wasn't much they could do without clear, definitive evidence…and even if they had any, clues had a habit of disappearing.

So, after a largely pointless visit when his lunch arrived at two o'clock, Jack was left with a feeling of resigned deflation. He didn't expect it to happen any differently, and he would be naïve to think there was anything the police  _could_  do, even if they wanted to. The desire to eat having been swallowed by the ball of apathy in his gut, he instead amused himself with attempting to build houses with his fries. When they fell apart, he elected instead to build a pyramid, though he cheated by using the ketchup as glue.

Elsa had reluctantly left to buy some sandwiches and drinks from the cafeteria, anxious to remain by his side as she ignored the growling in her stomach. It got to the point that Jack was getting a little annoyed with the sound and heavily suggested she should go and get something to eat, and when she protested he compromised by saying she could always bring the food back to the room. He still felt her absence, though, even if it was only for a few minutes.

"Have you ever considered a career as a culinary architect?"

Jack looked up with a  _ha-ha_  expression at Elsa, who just that second opened the door clutching a two bottles of water, sandwiches and potato chips. She smirked in response as she made her way back to the chair – the last observing nurse having collapsed it for her – and passed one of the bottles to Jack.

"Elsa, you are a goddess among mortals…" he sighed, upon feeling just how cold the water was. His throat would be  _very_ happy. Elsa merely flicked her hair back over her shoulder and wiggled her eyebrows, retaining that cheeky smirk.

"Don't you forget it, Frost."

Jack chuckled to himself and sipped from the bottle, screwing up his face in delight as the ice-cold liquid soothed everything it touched on the way down. Elsa watched him drink, and the urge to come out with something  _very_  inappropriate proved hard to resist.

"I haven't seen that face in a while." she said coyly. Jack nearly choked on the water, and he shot her an amused look to which she responded with another eyebrow wiggle and a sly smile, a potato chip on its way to her mouth.

"You're lucky I can't exert myself." he retorted, wiping his mouth with one of the disposable napkins from the lunch tray.

"Oh? And why is that?" she teased, biting her lip. Jack simply winked, and Elsa felt her cheeks go a bright red. He chuckled quietly to himself, and moved his right hand towards her which she took with her left. Gazing at her thoughtfully, he decided to deepen the mood.

"I love you."

Elsa's smile widened and pretty much stayed there, lighting up her face like Christmas morning.

"I love you too."

They stayed like that for some time, neither of them willing to let go of the other, but the opening of the door prompted both pairs of eyes to cease gazing warmly at each other and rest upon the new arrival, the man with the limp that Elsa had spoken to last night. He was accompanied by a different nurse this time, and he hobbled straight over to the notes hanging on the bottom of Jack's bed while the nurse busied herself with setting up the observation equipment.

"Good afternoon, Mr Overland. I'm Doctor Killian. The nurse and I are here to take your latest observation results. Providing that they are within normal levels, you should be out of here fairly soon."

Jack didn't bother to hide the tide of relief that crashed over him, and he heard a muffled  _'yes!'_  and spotted a surreptitious fist-pump from the corner of his eye. Evidently Elsa was anxious to get out of here as well.

"Can we do the breathing thing first?" he asked, wanting to get the worst part out of the way. The nurse glanced at Killian who shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"Did the blood tests come back?" Elsa asked as Jack busied himself with pissing his lungs off so the nurse could relay the results. Killian nodded sombrely, his eyes not leaving the notes in his hand.

"They did, and it confirmed the presence of a sedative. Have the police been in touch?"

Jack rolled his eyes as the nurse shone a torch down his throat, and made a few terse sounds which Elsa translated.

"Yes, though it was less than productive."

Doctor Killian looked up from his notes and fixed Elsa with a puzzled expression, and then quickly looked back down to scribble the next set of results. From then, the room was pretty much silent except for information relayed by the nurse and sounds of acknowledgement from the doctor, and once the blood pressure readings had been taken and the cuff removed from Jack's arm, Killian scribbled down the result and signed his name next to it.

"So how do I look, Doc? Fit and healthy and raring to go?" Jack asked with a hint of sardonic dryness to his voice.

"Fit and healthy? No. However, your observation results all fall within normal parameters, so I believe you should be ready to leave in an hour or two. I will need to add this information to your medical records, and sort out a prescription for some painkillers and an inhaler for your airways, but after that you can go home."

In the corner of Jack's eye, another  _'yes!'_ and a less than subtle fist-pump.

* * *

 

Three hours had passed since Hans's arrival, three long, painstaking hours.

Headway had been made into cracking the encryption which pleased Pritchard no end, and while the Duke had taken himself off to deal with – as he saw it – more important matters, Hans had parked himself in front of an empty computer and busied himself with browsing cat gifs and demotivational posters. He thought he would catch hell for it from the IT staff or from the Duke himself, but he was  _that_  bored he didn't care. Pritchard, on the other hand, was like a cat waiting for a mouse to come out of a hole in the wall, and though he didn't understand all the technobabble that the technician had been spouting, he just nursed the feeling of impending victory. If this was a game of poker, he was most definitely  _all in_.

He was at that moment silently chuckling at a cat running headlong into an open box when he noticed every person in the room had stiffened, and he turned his head toward the obvious source. Pritchard was now leaning toward the laptop screen with a manic glint in his eye, and with the quickest of glances Hans knew what had transpired.

"Done it. The encryption has been cracked; all we need to do now is login to his system."

Hans rose from his seat and walked over to stand by Pritchard's side, all three pairs of eyes were now staring with anticipation at the screen. The technician pulled a USB stick from his trouser pocket and slid it into the laptop's side slot, an after typing in something way too fast for either Hans or Pritchard to see, a small black window popped up in the lower right corner.

… _INITIATING LOGIN…  
…RETRIEVING PASSWORD…_

It only took about a minute, before more white text popped up in the window.

… _PROCESSING…_  
 _…PROCESSING…_  
 _…COMPLETE_

"Yes…" Pritchard quietly muttered to himself as asterisks automatically filled the  _Username_ and  _Password_  fields, and Hans could sense the excitement radiating from the acting CEO. The hard part was over, now it was just a case of finding which website Jack used and obtaining the login details for that too.

The screen went blank and two seconds after that the desktop screen appeared. Hans bit his lip nervously at the sight, and one sidelong glance at Pritchard confirmed his thoughts. Jack's desktop screen was a picture of himself with Elsa pulling faces while snow descended in the background. Hans could practically  _feel_  the jealous anger seething from every inch of the acting CEO's body. He wondered if he could roast marshmallows on it.

"Alright then," Pritchard hissed, barely concealing his temper, "let's get on with the show."

The technician nodded and moved the pointer towards the internet icon when a sound began to creep out from the laptop's speakers. Confused glances and mutters of  _'what the hell?'_  could be heard from every occupant of the room when the sound began to climb in pitch and volume, almost like a banshee's shrieking.

"What  _is_  that?" Hans asked to no-one in particular, and the technician responded with a  _'damned if I know'_  shrug. The shriek grew louder and louder still, and as it began to reach the point where everyone tried to cover their ears to keep the shrill sound at bay, the desktop flickered and tore…and then went blank.

Pritchard instantly leaned forward with an expression of anxious concern, nudging the technician out of the way as he began to hammer random keys in an effort to revive the inert laptop.

"What did you do?" he snarled toward the man.

"I just did what you said!" the man shouted back, not knowing whether he could be heard over the piercing shriek.

"Bullshit, this isn't supposed to happen!"

He hammered the keys some more, and even pressed the on/off button a few times. Hans had difficulty concealing a smirk as he watched a flash of panic appear on his friend's face, his mouth uttering steady streams of  _'no no no no NO!'._

Suddenly the screen flicked back to life once more, and Pritchard straightened with a relieved exhalation of breath and a victorious expression.

"You see? When all else fails, resort to-"

He didn't finish his sentence as what sounded like feral, animalistic laughter replaced the shrieking and up on the screen popped a picture of a dragon. It was almost cat-like, with bright green eyes, shiny black scales and seemed to be sat on its hind legs with a decidedly unimpressed expression on its face. Glancing up at the other computers in the room, Hans noticed an air of deep confusion and anxiety radiating from the other users as the dragon had spread to their screens too, and below the picture, four words sat proudly taunting the Black heir.

_TOOTHLESS IS NOT IMPRESSED._

"Who the…what the fuck is…" Pritchard could only stammer, and to add insult to injury the screen flickered once more and went straight to the computer affliction commonly known as the  _'blue screen of death'_ , along with every other screen in the room. Hans could now hear hurried footsteps on the other side of the door, and with perplexed wonder he questioned why everyone seemed to be in such a panic.

The door burst open with his answer.

"What have you  _done?!_ "

The Duke glared at Pritchard with an expression dancing between panic and fury, and in his right hand he clutched his cell phone.

"I…I don't…I didn't do anything!" he stammered, like a child caught red-handed painting the television screen with their hands. The Duke's lips parted to reveal impossibly gritted teeth and he stalked towards the three, all eyes in the room following in silence as he did so.

"The entire building is in an uproar, because every single computer has been infected with this  _dragon_  picture, and now every system is unusable! We cannot use the telephones, our cell phones, security cameras, nothing! What have you  _done!_?"

Pritchard was at a loss for what to say, so he fell back on the usual demeanour for when he was cornered and being shown up – petulant anger.

"I have done  _nothing_! The fault is with  _you!_ Why could your technician not predict this?"

Hans winced internally, careful not to physically show it as so far he was not in the Duke's firing line. Pritchard, however, was dead-to-rights. The older man whipped his head toward the nervous technician who had kept quiet since he burst in, and pointed a finger at him.

"You will find out  _precisely_  what has happened and report back to me as soon as you do. I want to know what we can do about it and how soon we can get back up and running."

The technician muttered a hasty  _'yessir_ ' and disappeared from the room, and in a less-than-subtle way Hans sidled away from Pritchard as the Duke's angry gaze returned to him.

" _We_  will travel to Black Towers." he said, with a menacing tone that did not befit his small stature. Pritchard scowled in response.

"And why will we be doing that?"

"I have a call to make, and because of your monumental error, I cannot do it from here."

Without another word, the Duke whirled on his feet and stormed towards the door. Pritchard glanced at Hans and cocked his head to follow him, however in a display of impressive telepathy the Duke turned his head back and shouted once more.

"Mr Southernisle will remain here, in case anything  _worse_  happens while I am gone!"

Hans raised his eyebrows at the comment, and upon catching Pritchard's frustrated expression, gave him a look of  _'better get going, champ'._ The Black heir briefly hesitated, but quickly left the room when another shout from the corridor indicated the Duke was feeling less than patient.

Hans watched the door close after him, lost in thought. Whatever Jack had installed on that laptop had the power to bring down the entire Southernisle system in less than five minutes, with no clue as to the damage it had caused and when, or  _if_ , the network would be up and running again. What was strange was that, in a moment of introspective thought, Hans wasn't dismayed, angry, or even disappointed. He was  _amused_. Where the Duke and Pritchard saw disaster, he saw opportunity.

The security cameras were down.

He quickly strode out of the room and down the corridor, where legions of people were bustling to and fro in an attempt to stem the crisis. On the way he remarked to himself that if this is what 'Toothless' did to one firm, imagine what it could do to a whole country. Dodging employees that seemed completely oblivious to his presence, he descended down to the first floor and further down into the basement, which in a complete whiplash of aesthetic quality looked like a disused bunker.

He knew exactly where he was as he stared down the dim corridor, concrete walls giving off the sense of gloom and insidious foreboding. He knew that the gap in the wall to the left was where a security guard was stationed, his task being to record who had entered and exited the basement, what time and what their reason was for being there.

In this instance for what Hans was planning, it had to be as though he was never there.

Thanking his stars that he was wearing sneakers, he carefully stepped towards the gap in the wall, stopping just short of the window, praying that the thunderous heart beat in his ears wasn't loud enough to alert the guard's attention.

_Here's hoping that Bourne marathon paid off._

He held up his phone, which he thankfully had not connected to the wireless service inside the building else it too would have been rendered inert, and moved it so the blank screen reflected the tiny room in which the guard was stationed. He watched as the guard paced to and fro, trying to get his own phone to work, and he could hear the irritated grumbling of the man as his efforts proved fruitless.

"The hell is this shit? All I'm tryna do is play Angry Birds!"

Hans worked desperately hard to conceal a snigger, especially since the guard seemed too concerned with his own device to see Hans' screen reflecting his frustrated movements. Hans waited until his back was turned once more, held his breath, and ducked under the window as fast as he could. He quickly straightened and flattened himself against the wall on the other side, and listened as hard as possible, in case the guard had heard his movement and was walking to the door that led to the security station. Silence reigned in the corridor, though you wouldn't think it with the nervous pulse throbbing in Hans' ears. If he was caught, he might not get another chance to try again. The guard would either ask him to sign in, or suggest that he leave. He didn't know whether the systems would reactivate soon, and he could  _not_  be seen doing this.

Finally, he had his answer in the form of more cursing as he heard what he assumed to be the guard taking his phone apart, reassembling it and finding that it had no effect. He let out a quiet sigh of relief as his eyes rolled back into his head. So far, so good.

Taking every single step with the silence befitting a ninja, he carefully made his way around the corner and once he was far enough away from the station, allowed his pace to quicken towards his destination – a large, thick wooden door.

The sign fixed above the door frame read one word:

_RECORDS_

* * *

 

"I've just had a horrible thought…" Jack clasped a hand to his forehead with the realisation.

It had taken an extra hour for the doctor to inform him that he had been officially discharged, along with a reminder that he was to take it easy for the next few days – which meant no work, no travelling, or nothing that required exertion on his part. Jack couldn't help but snigger like a schoolboy at the last part prompting a sardonic glance, a slap on the arm and a rolling of the eyes from Elsa.

However at the mere mention of  _'fly, be free',_  or at least how Jack heard it, both young CEOs chose not to hide their relief and were excited to get the hell out of there. At least, until the horrible thought hit Jack like a truck to the face.

"What is it?" Elsa stiffened in genuine concern, her eyes dancing over him in case it was something physically wrong.

"My suit is probably fucked, my clothes are fucked, and as the boyfriend of Fractal Fashion's CEO, all I have to wear is this stupid hospital gown!" he whined, sounding positively distraught. Elsa blinked a few times with incredulity, and then abruptly snorted into raucous laughter.

"What?" he asked, missing the joke. Elsa held up a hand and shook her head, obviously unable to speak over the giggles just yet. Once the mirth had subsided just enough, she took one look at Jack's uncomprehending expression…and then burst into laughter once more.

"Oh sure, laugh at the guy who doesn't own any clothes." he muttered sarcastically, and Elsa's laughter renewed.

"Sorry! Sorry, it's just…you're recovering in hospital from a situation where you could have died, and you're more concerned with what you're wearing!"

"Hey!" he retorted, pretending to be offended, "hospital gowns aren't a good look for me!"

"I don't know…I think white with blue spots goes very well with…I'm sorry, I can't finish that sentence!" she said, snorting into giggles once more. Jack huffed and folded his arms, scowling at a fixed point on the wall opposite him.

"Not talking to you now." he said in a petulant growl. Elsa, still in the grip of mirth, held Jack's right hand while she smiled at him, and he cast her a couple of sidelong glares.

"Still not talking to you."

Elsa smirked to herself, and an evil thought crossed her mind. Making sure Jack's neck was exposed, she carefully and slowly leaned forward, and the next thing Jack felt was a soft and gentle kiss on one of the sensitive spots on his neck. His entire body convulsed into shivers, and he shot her a half-amused, half-annoyed look.

"That's not fair. You cheated." he muttered, and was about to continue complaining when Elsa silenced him with another kiss, this time on his lips. It was slow, it was soft, it was a  _you-know-you-can't-resist-me_  kiss…and she was right. Jack was now putty in her hands.

"Alright, you're off the hook. For now." he murmured against her lips, and she smiled coyly.

"Thank you, kind sir. Anyway, I'm way ahead of you on the clothes front. I messaged Anna as soon as the doctor gave you the all clear; she should be here right about…"

The door opened in a universally amazing case of timing, Anna poking her head through the doorway holding a brand new suit and some boxer shorts. Jack's eyebrows rose when he realised that Elsa had directed Anna to go out and buy the identical suit to the one damaged by the smoke. To say it filled him with gratitude and a little self-conscious reproach was putting it mildly.

"…now." Elsa said proudly.

"Hi!" Anna grinned, elongating the 'I' all the way from the door as she walked over to Jack and hugged him, "how're you feeling?"

"Ready to get the hell out of here. Thank you so much." he declared, shuffling from the bed. Taking care to ensure that the gap at the back of his gown was not exhibiting his butt, he gratefully accepted the suit and underwear and sidled off towards the en-suite bathroom. Elsa wore a disappointed expression at how he clutched the back of the gown together, while Anna politely covered her eyes and attempted to suppress a rude snigger. Once Jack had closed the door behind him, Anna turned to give her sister a warm hug.

"How're you doing, 'sis?" she asked, squeezing her sister's chest.

"Me?" Elsa answered, her eyes glancing toward the bathroom door with a smile on her face, "I'm great."

"How about Jack? I mean…how is he  _really_  doing?" Anna fired off another question, pulling away from her sister. Elsa's smile fell.

"Physically, he'll be okay…but he doesn't remember anything. Southernisle really did a number on him. He said he can't remember a single thing from when he went to bed last night to when he woke up here."

Anna stroked her sister's arm comfortingly, and offered a supportive half-smile.

"Maybe it's for the best."


	34. Best Laid Plans

As softly as he possibly could, Hans closed the door to the Records room behind him and with baited breath, he listened for any possible sound that would tell him he needed to run and hide. The easy part was over, the hard part was staying 'invisible' and praying that Murphy's Law didn't dictate the guard would pick that moment to do the rounds and catch Hans with his fingers in the sensitive documents.

That would be  _awkward_.

Thankfully, he didn't hear any footsteps or irritated grumbling approaching the door, and decided that now would be a good time to go about his business.

For a moment he was struck as he always was, by the sheer size of the room and the row upon row of olive green steel filing cabinets that were placed so uniformly that he wondered if the Duke had measured the distance between each one. Mildly bright lights shone over the floor creating patches of circular illumination, and with the walls being unpainted concrete Hans briefly wondered if the room had a purpose during World War Two.

He quickly cast the thought aside and set about his self-assigned task, and scanned the labels on each cabinet drawer, looking for a specific year. The Duke had made sure that each row was organised in annual format, and given that there were at least twenty rows it easily showed how long Southernisle had been practicing its trade. He had gone past three of the rows before he realised that he was going back in time, so with a silent self-rebuke he doubled back and went through the years until he reached the desired row. The first one he reached was January of that year, so naturally he quickly walked down to the furthest cabinet for December.

Everything he was going to need would be in  _that_  cabinet.

He flicked through each manila folder, mumbling the dates to himself as he went through them until he reached the latter half of the December month, and with a quick glance at the door to make sure he wasn't going to be caught, his fingers pulled out a folder dated the fifteenth of December. He knew what it contained without even needing to open it, but he did anyway.

Inside the folder was a group of statements from four people regarding the attempted rape of Anna Snowfield, obtained from a corrupt cop so Southernisle could bury the case. Hans remembered it well – the creeping knowledge that he was walking a path that soon he would not be able to break away from, a path he had begun to walk three years ago. He retrieved a specific document from that folder, which happened to be a hand-filed report of the incident by the Duke. Like every other case or situation that required their intervention, the Southernisle partner meticulously detailed what assets were used (if any), the names of any police officers or law officials that needed to be approached or bribed – basically whatever Southernisle did to cover up crimes or manufacture evidence, the Duke always recorded it in a report and put it in the folder.

People kept telling him that it would be his Achilles' heel, but Weselton did it anyway. Hans reckoned it was a 'thing' that he  _had_  to do.

He slid out the paper, rested it on top of the cabinet and proceeded to open the next one, dated the twentieth of December. This one Hans could also clearly remember as the blackmail of Kai Snowfield, and the first time Pritchard had begun to screw things up. This particular report he took the time to read, especially as he never knew the prostitute's name.

Her name was Celeste Whitehall, and her downfall went by the name of Pritchard Black.

Hans read through the report, learning how originally she was supposed to have been paid off and essentially forced to leave town, but Pritchard went one step further and paid the 'assets' to eliminate her and make it look like Kai did it. It even mentioned Hans' involvement with the photographs, and the Duke's displeasure at his orders being superseded. However, the report neglected to mention where the body was hidden, and he had a suspicion that the only people who knew were the men who committed the crime in the first place. He placed that document on top of the first and then flicked through the rest until he found the one he was looking for – the twenty-eighth of December.

The attempted murder of Jackson Overland, and the arson of his apartment.

This report was fairly lengthy, but that was mostly due to the Duke voicing his extreme distress at what he perceived to be an out-of-control situation created by an out-of-control boy. However, there was no mention about Black's obsession with Elsa Snowfield clouding his judgement and causing him to act exceptionally irrationally, so the Duke must have come to the conclusion that Jackson had caught the assets in the act and thus had to be silenced.

_If only he knew._

He had all he needed for what he wanted to do, and that was to pull himself out of the black sand into which he had been slowly sinking. Quickly folding the documents and stuffing them into the inner pocket of his denim jacket, he quietly closed the cabinet drawer and walked back towards the door…and froze when something hit him, something that he should have taken as a sign long ago that no good would come of his friendship with Black.

There was one more document he needed to find.

He quickly walked back toward the 2014 row but stopped three rows before that, signifying the year 2011. Marching down to the final cabinet as he had done so before, he hastily pulled out the drawer and went straight to the eighth of December of that year, and slid out the report that conclusively incriminated Southernisle in the cover-up of the Overland murders.

He had all he needed, and he prayed that the woman with whom he was going to arrange a meeting had not left work for the day.

* * *

 

"Why don't they just ride ahead?" Jack asked, twisting around in the cab's seat to wave out of the rear windscreen as they travelled from the hospital to Elsa's house. He saw Kristoff's helmet quickly dip and rise, and one of the arms that were wrapped around his abdomen release itself to wave back.

"I don't know. I think Anna just wants to be near us in case anything bad happens." Elsa shrugged, and then hastily added, "Not that anything  _will_  happen."

Jack grunted his acknowledgement and turned back to face the front, gingerly stroking the bruise on his stomach as it had been yelling profanities at him for daring to be anything other than straight and relaxed. With one hand permanently entwined with Elsa's soft fingers, he absentmindedly played with the pocket watch in his waistcoat pocket as he stared out of the window, watching the city go by. According to Anna, when Jack stepped out of the bathroom sporting the new suit and noticed Elsa's absence, she had quickly gone to the nurse's desk to ask about his personal effects. She had returned not thirty seconds later, and Jack could've wept with relief when she held his pocket-watch, cufflinks, snowflake pendant and phone in her hands.

They had both spent the journey back in thoughtful silence, with the occasional conversation. While Jack still endeavoured to lift the block of amnesia, Elsa was thinking about how easy it was to offer a place in her home to Jack. Ordinarily, the idea of living together is something that required a lot of thought beforehand and even more co-ordination and compromise before the question was asked or the plunge taken.

However, with Jack it had just seemed right. She didn't get the little voice in her head that berated her for speaking before thinking, nor the feeling of being in over her head with the implications. It just felt like the most natural thing in the world. Her mind even went to the future, with the idea of finishing work in Snowfield Towers at the same time, returning home at the same time and cuddling in bed after a hard day's work.

There was one thing she would have to instil in him if he was to permanently live with her, however, and that was tidiness. Jack wasn't a slob by any stretch of the imagination, but she definitely would not be tripping over clothes on the bedroom floor in the morning.

Yet, the idea of waking up next to him every morning was something she was really looking forward to.

"I'm still going to work tomorrow, you know." Jack broke the silence with an attempt at conviction, still gazing out of the window.

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am."

"No, you're  _not_." Elsa said with finality, prompting a mildly annoyed but impressed look from Jack. She raised her eyebrows at him in a challenging manner.

_Go on. I dare you to try and make me change my mind._

"Why not?"

"One, as your Queen I outrank you. Two, disobedience of the Queen's ruling is a treasonable offence, punishable by cessation of making out activities until she sees fit to reinstate your privilege-"

"You're seriously playing the no-romantic-contact card to get me to listen?"

"-and three, because the doctor and I said so." she finished, shooting Jack a look for daring to interrupt her. Jack narrowed his eyes as he considered his options, but there were none. There is a reason that the most dangerous chess piece is the queen, after all.

"You win." he snapped with a scowl, which he couldn't hold when he caught Elsa's expression of smug pride, her smirk at the inevitable victory.

"Damn right I do, and as if you needed further convincing, I have Phil's blessing to use whatever means at my disposal to make sure you stay home."

"Does that include tying me to the bed?" Jack teased, winking at her.

"Don't push it, Frost." she rolled her eyes, briefly releasing his hand to rap his right knee. Jack sniggered uncontrollably like a teenage boy reading about the female body at school, and it wasn't long before Elsa was infected with the giggles as well. For a while everything seemed normal.

It didn't last, though. The cab driver announced that they had reached Snowfield House, and once he had been paid for the journey Elsa and Jack slipped out of the passenger seat to see Hiccup and Merida waiting at the front door. The Scot wore an expression of relief and was already making her way down the steps before Jack had even closed the passenger doors, but his eyes were firmly on Hiccup.

The presence of the chocolate-haired man brought a new worry to Jack that he hadn't thought of in all his time at the hospital. He had theorized – and later confirmed – Southernisle's role in the arson but he hadn't really thought about  _why_  it happened; only that it  _did_. Seeing Hiccup reminded him of the super-duper-awesome  _Protocol_  that he was so excited about, which then ostensibly reminded him of the laptop. He went with the worst case scenario of the bad guys in possession of the means to access the magic twenty-six percent, and prayed that Hiccup's program was up to the task.

Otherwise, it was all for nothing.

He was brought back to reality by the strangest of things – a severe tickling of his nose and the advance of bright red across his vision, and it took him a second to realise that Merida had reached him and was hugging him tightly.

"Glad ta see yer up an' about, laddie. How're ye feelin'?" he heard her mutter into his ear.

"Thanks, Mer. I'm getting there."

She pulled back and offered him a knowing nod, and then retreated back to the house while Elsa once again took his fingers with hers as the cab drove away behind them.

"They'll probably ask lots of questions." she observed, watching Merida slip inside of the house while Hiccup waited.

"I don't know what to tell them."

"As much or as little as you want." she smiled with understanding. Jack nodded as he dipped his head a little.

"Ready?" she asked, squeezing his hand.

"No." he answered bluntly, eliciting a concerned frown from Elsa, "but I wasn't ready when I met you at college, and look what happened." He finished with a smirk.

* * *

 

The Duke knew  _exactly_  what he was going to do before he had even left the Southernisle building over an hour ago, as the time was approaching six-thirty.

He had planned for this, just as he had planned for Richard Black should their working relationship ever become detrimental or outright hostile. He had enough dirt on the patriarch of the Black family to bury him for millennia, from the first acquisition they ever made to the latest attempts that were – as he disliked the notion – causing them quite a few teething problems.

Rectifying the Pritchard situation, however, did not require anything as drastic as quietly and anonymously leaking evidence – merely a simple phone call.

The journey had been spent in silence, as had the walk into the Black building and the ascent in the elevator. The Duke would have liked to think it was either intimidation or a grown-up version of a teacher taking an errant, misbehaving child to the principal's office, but he wasn't naïve enough to think that's why Pritchard refused to talk – not that he could stand hearing that oily voice at this point. He had briefly entertained the idea that the young man would  _at least_  question who he was intending to call, under the misguided impression that the Duke would actually answer.

No, it was the heir's arrogance, the stubborn refusal to accept blame and take responsibility for his actions. The complete system shutdown in the Southernisle building had been  _his_  fault, and no-one else's, but when the Duke occasionally shot glares at the young man beside him who wore a haughty expression he knew that there was no way on God's green earth that Pritchard Black would ever think  _'sorry, that one's on me'_.

The dimly lit elevator's doors began to open with a dull bell and the Duke was already marching out before they even reached halfway, followed somewhat lazily by Pritchard. He knew exactly where he was going, to the office held by the Southernisle liaison within the Black company. Any co-ordination that was done between the two was handled by the occupant of this office, and it was the only place in the building right now that the Duke trusted to be able to make the call in peace.

"I will not be long," he said to the young heir as he wrapped his hands around the silver doorknob, "and I would suggest you wait here."

Pritchard scowled at the suggestion-slash-order, but before he could say anything, the Duke had already entered the room and locked the door behind him.

The door opened about half an hour later, time that Pritchard had spent attempting to re-activate his cell phone and let his mind drive itself into a frenzy with what could have been going on behind those doors. He knew that the Duke was intending to make a phone call but was uncertain as to whom, though he had a few ideas. He rose to his feet as the older man stood to the side, and prompted by a rather curt inclination of the head towards the inside of the office, Pritchard stalked inside and prepared to let loose at this obvious show of disrespect. Ordering him around in his own building? Inconceivable.

"So," he sneered as the Duke closed the door behind him, "who did you call and why should I care?"

He was unaware that whoever the Southernisle partner had called was still on the line, and worse still, on loud-speaker. Thus, he could hear every word that had been said.

"He called  _me_ , boy."

Pritchard's colour retreated from his skin, making his tone a deathly white. The Duke could barely conceal a smirk behind the moustache as he watched the heir's face slacken and eyes widen, those four words igniting a sense of panic inside.

"F-Father?"

"Yes. I hear you've been making quite the mess of things while you've been leading the company in my absence. Suffice to say, I am most displeased. Do you remember what I said in the car when we arrived at the airfield?" Richard's voice was full of anger, yet quiet and firm. This was the worst mode for his father to be in, because the son knew that this was when his father's rage had reached a point where it was a tranquil fury. Perfect clarity that hid a berserking storm inside.

Pritchard nodded, and rasped a quiet "yes".

"It has been made clear to me that you did indeed fail, and quite substantially at that. I gave you a chance to prove to me that you were capable of leading the company in my absence, and if you were up to the task I would have left it in your hands for any further international trips I would have had to make."

"Evidently, I was wrong. So far, your leadership has entailed an insignificant gnat being able to out-manoeuvre us, the unnecessary death of a prostitute, the completely unnecessary arson of a building, attempted murder, and the crippling of the software systems within our partner's head building."

Pritchard cast a sidelong glance at the Duke, whose face was impassive. His eyes however, had a twinkle that said  _'game, set, match'._

"Father, I did it to help us acquire Fractal Fashion! It was always for that! I didn't know someone had placed a virus on-"

"Was there any point during which I spoke that implied I cared?" Richard completely overrode his son, who had the good sense to be silent at this point. The Duke folded his arms and awaited the next few minutes – this was usually where the good stuff came.

"You failed, boy. It is that simple, and thus what I am about to do is equally simple. I am staying in Edinburgh for a few more days, then I will return home. I have asked the Duke to carry out my instructions immediately upon the end of this call."

Both of the occupants could practically hear Richard take a deep breath before responding, and when he spoke his voice was measured, methodical, and completely emotionless.

"You are no longer the acting CEO of Black Advertising, and any privileges or perks you have obtained as a result of your role will be revoked. You will not be able to allocate or take advantage of Southernisle resources in any capacity. In addition, because of the sheer amount of money you have cost this company, the flagrant disrespect you have shown your partners and the general stupidity with which you have conducted yourself…"

Richard took a moment to finalise his next words, and allow the previous speech to sink into his son's already churning stomach.

"…you are disowned from the Black family. You will no longer be a part of my will, and henceforth no institution will recognise the familial ties between us. You are no longer my  _son_."

Pritchard could have thrown up there and then. He was losing  _everything_. All of his plans, his schemes, gone.

"Father…you can't do this…" he almost  _squeaked_.

"Don't, Pritchard. Your plaintive voice infuriates me. You should be grateful I have not decided to have your bank accounts frozen and your wealth spirited away. Call it a severance pay for services rendered, however from here on out Weselton will be in charge of Fractal Fashion's acquisition."

The phone clicked, signifying that the conversation was now irrevocably over. There was no going back.

"He can't do this…not when I'm so close…"

The Duke merely shrugged and exhaled loudly, walking towards the door. Just before he turned the knob, he glanced back at the ex-heir.

"I'd say I'm sorry, but I'm really  _not_."

He left the room, closing the door behind him.

What momentarily puzzled the Duke, however, was the eerie silence from the other side of the door.

* * *

 

"Who's hungry?"

Choruses of "I am" and "Me!" along with raised hands like high school greeted Elsa's question. Anna and Merida seemed to be the most avid responders, and at once a rigorous discussion took place over what to have. Takeout was starting to be the most common suggestion, to the point that bickering was taking place between the choices: Indian, Italian or Chinese. Jack kept quiet; he was far too amused watching the group debate the pros and cons of each type as though it was a life or death decision. Sat on the far end of the sofa with one arm along the armrest and the other draped over Elsa's shoulders as she leant against him, he suppressed a snicker as Anna reminded Kristoff of what happened the last time he had the Big Summer Blowout Curry.

"Fair point." He had acquiesced.

Merida wasn't to be deterred, the hotter the better for her.

"I could cook, you know." he muttered so only Elsa could hear, and she shook her head in response.

"You've been told to take it easy, and cooking for six – technically eight with Kristoff's appetite – isn't taking it easy." she replied, moving her face towards his.

"But…"

"No arguments, Jack." she murmured near his ear, and the combination of her voice and the heat of her breath sent uncontrollable tingles from his earlobe right through to his legs. He didn't know how, but she possessed the power to turn him into jelly with three words.

"Alright, takeout it is," he agreed, if only to stave off being turned into a quivering heap, "assuming these guys don't re-enact  _The Hunger Games._ "

"If they did, who would win?" Elsa lifted an eyebrow, though her answer came shortly as a certain someone had Hiccup in a headlock and was knuckling his head.

"Merida." they muttered in unison.

Elsa released herself from Jack's arm and weighed into the bickering at this point, acting as a pseudo-peacekeeper while people decided what they were going to have. Jack rolled his eyes and rose from the sofa to make a cold drink of water to soothe his throat and sit by the breakfast bar, a little distance away from the discussion. He sipped from his glass and brought the regional news app up on his phone, and felt his heart drop something iron into his stomach at one of the top three links – the burning of his apartment. It was even accompanied by a video that was ostensibly taken at the scene. His thumb pressed the link before he knew it, and he instantly wished he had left it alone.

The picture was grainy, probably because the user had zoomed in to the camera's limits, but the effects were undeniable. Flames had managed to sneak through the window that faced into the street, curling up the building like a creature from hell was trying to escape the room. Smoke billowed out of every possible exit. Blurry lights flashed from the bottom of the video panel, and the blobs that constituted firemen zipped to and fro, aiming high pressure hoses at the blaze.

 

_(Elsa, I thought you were…who the fuck are you?)_

 

He turned his head to the side and the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, accompanying a chill in his spine as though he was hearing an unfamiliar voice behind him, his heart thrumming just that little bit faster. The voices from the other end of the living room seemed to blur into one incoherent white noise.

"Jack? What do ye want fer takeout, laddie?"

The noise quickly changed to something akin to the sound of water rushing in and out of someone's ears as they burst through the surface of the sea, and in a disorienting moment the world sharpened and became clear.

"Huh?" he responded absent-mindedly.

"Takeout. What d'ye want?"

His mouth opened and closed a few times, barely registering the question. He glanced down at the knuckles of his right hand, inspecting the butterfly stitches that still kissed his knuckles as though he had never seen them before, and as his breath hitched in his throat his hand felt the strange sensation of bony impacts and tiny spatters of warm liquid.

 

_(Asshole broke my fucking nose! You're going to pay for that!)_

 

"I…" he began, but the words stilled in his throat.

"Jack, you okay there buddy?" he heard Hiccup's voice cutting through the silence of everyone now focused on him.

He quickly tried to re-assert his composure with a deep, mildly wheezy breath and nodded. He wasn't sure what was going on, so he didn't want to mention anything about his disorientation.

"Yeah…yeah I am. Sorry, just roll a dice or something," he waved limply but dismissively, "I'll have anything that's not hospital food. Anna was right, it does suck."

"Preach it, brother!" he heard from one of the other sofas, and a smile curled his mouth. Yep, back to normal.

He caught Elsa's studious gaze just before he took another sip of his water to fix the dryness of his throat, and knew that unlike everyone else, she was not fooled by his attempt at misdirection.

But, that was kind of the point.

* * *

 

Hans was actually quite proud of himself right now. He was nervously clutching the documents and his insurance folder in one hand as he sat in a vintage wooden chair, situated opposite the desk of a secretary who was busy typing away on her keyboard. His left ear was starting to feel the minor ache that comes with having a phone pressed against it for too long, and the plastic screen radiated his body's warmth when he shifted it to the other ear to give the first one a break. He checked the time on the clock above the door he entered from – seven thirty. He was thankful that the woman he had come to see often worked late.

He was pretty proud that he could fake pity at this point in time, as Pritchard moped away on the other end of the call. Then again, Hans was quite adept at faking emotions when the situation called for it.

" _Father has removed me from the company."_

Hans rolled his eyes. About damn time too. He squinted to read the heavy-looking books that sat in the large oak bookcase, acting as the wall behind the secretary. He tried to sound interested.

"Why would he do that?" he asked.

" _The Duke blamed the system shutdown on me, along with the arson and the prostitute. He coloured my father's opinion."_

Hans stiffened a little in his seat. So the Duke  _had_  made a move.

"Surely he knew that wasn't your fault?"  _Hans, if you could lie any more, your underpants would spontaneously combust._

" _It wasn't. I couldn't predict the virus on Overland's laptop, how was I to know it would happen? This is not my doing, and I have been cast out because of it."_

Hans resisted the urge to mutter  _'Dude, you fucked up. Take responsibility for your own damn shit, stop blaming everyone else'._

"I'm sorry to hear that…boss. What will you do?"

" _It changes nothing."_

"Sorry, what?"

" _I said it changes nothing. I still have my wealth, but I no longer have Father's rules holding me back. I'm free."_

Those words sent a chill down Hans's spine with the way Pritchard spoke. It was monotone, unfeeling, conveying a sense that he was reaching a point where nothing matters anymore.

"Are you talking about what I think you're talking about?"

The click of the phone call ending was his only reply, and he sighed anxiously. He knew Pritchard was fairly incapable of leading a company and thus used Black Advertising as a vehicle for his own desires, but now that his father had effectively cut him loose and left him in the dust, everything had been taken from him – except his wealth, but Pritchard cared little for money. No, in Hans's mind Pritchard now felt he had lost it all…and there is nothing more dangerous than someone with nothing to lose.

He was so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed the secretary replace the receiver of her internal phone and rise to her feet. Hans bolted upright too, and it hit him how nervous he really was. His throat felt dry and parched, his heart was thundering in his chest and strangely, his hands had started to shake.

However, he knew why he was here, in this particular building. He knew that for too long he had been an accomplice to Pritchard's crimes, been the forgotten son of thirteen. Forced to follow in others footsteps without them taking even the slightest interest in what  _he_  wanted to do.

Not anymore. He was carving his own path, even if it led to the next room.

"The District Attorney will see you now."

The secretary walked to her left and opened a heavy oak door, and after thanking the woman Hans walked through the open doorway and stepped into the office of Arendelle City's District Attorney. This was where his path was leading, now that he could think for himself.

She stood there in front of him, her hands behind her back. For a second, Hans completely lost the ability to speak as the door clicked shut behind him. All thoughts went right out of his head; Pritchard, Southernisle, the virus, everything. The only thing that he was directly aware of was the insurance folder in his hand, and the Southernisle documents pressed tightly against it.

The District Attorney had jet-black hair that swept down her spine, with skin that was so pale it was almost white. Her green eyes conveyed strength, surgical precision and power, and they gazed at him with an expression that was almost akin to how a spider regards a fly caught in its web. Her cheekbones were so sharp they could cut diamond, and her pursed lips were a rich red and smiling with a predatory curl. The black suit, her stance…merely  _standing_  there she radiated authority, and the message that she was not a woman to be messed with.

In another lifetime, Hans would have happily followed this woman in the pursuit of law, especially when her first words to him made him quiver in awe as she towered over him, each word spoken with an impeccable English accent that probably made powerful men shudder with want.

"Well, well."

* * *

 

"Someone should find a historian," Elsa observed dryly, "there's a gladiatorial tournament going on in my house."

She wasn't wrong. Ten o'clock, with food long eaten, Kristoff and Merida had challenged each other to an arm wrestle on the breakfast bar. Anna was busy cheering Kristoff on while the more…sensible…three looked on with folded arms. Jack chuckled at the remark and Hiccup nodded in agreement.

"I know, right? Such bravado. Much arm strain. Wow."

Jack shot him an incredulous look.

"Did you…did you just channel  _Doge?"_

"Yeah. Why?" Hiccup asked, nonplussed. Elsa was sharing Jack's expression now.

"Okay, now you've earned my respect. Any man that can come out with an internet meme with people around deserves it." Jack nodded, impressed. Hiccup did a little mock-bow.

"You have low standards." Elsa deadpanned.

"Hey!" Jack and Hiccup both exclaimed in offense.

"That's disability discrimination, you know." the Berk heir waggled his finger.

"Relax, boys. Anyway, I'm going to bed. Long day tomorrow, I have to oversee the transition from one company to another." she said, pointedly nudging Jack. He smiled, remembering the merger of Snowfield-Overland…which then brought another dimension to his worries. He turned his head to the right to look past Elsa, and asked a very important question as she bade goodbye to the rest of the gang and made for her bedroom.

"Think your  _Night Fury_ thing worked?"

Hiccup slowly nodded with conviction, his eyes following the slow descent of Kristoff's arm.

"Yeah, I do. If they have the laptop, and they already tried to hack in,  _Night Fury_  has crippled their systems."

"You're sure?" Jack asked once more, hanging on Hiccup's every word.

"I am. I programmed it." he answered without a trace of arrogance. Jack studied him for a moment, and then with a satisfied nod, allayed the worries in the back of his mind. His home was not a total loss, then. Taking Hiccup's hand with a bro-shake and hug, he patted him on the back and muttered a  _'thanks'_ , hearing a  _'no problem, bud'_  as he released the hand and followed Elsa's path to the bedroom. She greeted him with a smile as he entered the room, and a partly amused expression.

"What?" he asked with mild incredulity.

"Nothing! It's just…I saw that, you and Hiccup. It's nice to see you two getting along." she blushed a little. Jack cocked a Spock-brow.

"Did you think I was going to punch him?"

"No! Well…initially, yes." she shyly dodged his gaze with a half-smile as she closed the door behind him.

"Fair lady, you wound me with your assumptions." he mock-whined, placing a hand over his oh-so-betrayed heart. Elsa rolled her eyes and rapped him on his right bicep.

"Come on. You need sleep."

Jack tried to suppress a yawn, but utterly failed. Elsa wiggled her eyebrows as if to say  _'told you'._  She disrobed from her denim trousers, plain white sleeveless shirt and fluffy grey jumper, folding them neatly and placing them on the chair to her dressing table and pulling from the drawer the ' _Hard Work? Deadlines?'_  t-shirt she had appropriated from Jack's apartment when she stayed over the first time. A memento, she had decided, a tribute to the good times shared in what was now ash. Jack watched her slip the t-shirt on over her underwear as he undressed as well, electing to kick his clothes under the bed as opposed to follow Elsa's example. He wondered how he got so lucky, but he wasn't about to question it.

Sliding under the covers, he held his arm open as he waited for her to join him, and it was only seconds before he could feel her soft skin under his arm and her head on his chest, sighing contentedly as she cuddled up to him. They were, quite honestly,  _that_  tired that they had barely exchanged 'I love yous' and 'Goodnights' before drifting off to sleep, and that  _should_  have been where the day ended.

Not for Jack, because when the body winds down for the night and the mind commences its symphony of thoughts and dreams, the subconscious opens doors that were previously understood to be locked. And three hours into his sleep, the images tore through his dreams like knives through paper.

 

_(Accident. Just like the guy in New York.)_

 

He dreamed of bonds and struggles, fierce punches and the feeling of being pushed against a cold wooden floor. Men in black utility vests, long moustaches and sideburns. Needles glinting in the moonlight, and expressions of pure cold contempt. The feeling of powerlessness and impotence in the face of danger.

 

_(Probably with him in it.)_

 

When he felt the needle prick his skin, his eyes shot open in the night, barely aware of the angry curses his lungs were spouting because of how fast and sharp his breaths came but starkly aware of the rampant thudding in his chest, and the trembles of his arms. Wiping a hand across the cold sweat on his forehead, he blinked a few times, trying to work out precisely where he was.

 

_(Cooking fire? Electrical? Cigarette?)_

 

Slowly but surely, his heart rate slowed and his breathing calmed when he realised that no, he was not in his apartment pinned down by two men, but in the bedroom of his girlfriend where it was dark, quiet but more importantly…safe. He sat up with his legs swung over the edge of the bed, supporting his forehead with his hands.

 

_(Don't worry, you probably won't be able to feel yourself burn.)_

 

The voices and the images still raced through his head, and he slowly came to realise that this was not a dream, that the hazy recordings in his subconscious were not products of his imagination, but blocked memories of the minutes leading up to his blackout.

"Fuck…" he whispered to himself, the only word he could come up with being a curse. He wondered what to do, what he  _could_  do, what he  _should_  do. Dropping his hands from his head, he straightened his spine a little as he tried to focus on what he could do now rather than what had already happened.

For starters, he needed a drink. Glancing back at the still body by the side of him, he felt a small blossom of relief that she was not enduring nightmares as well, but sleeping peacefully. He also thanked his stars that he had not awoken her. Pushing his hands down on his knees as he rose from the bed, he stumbled a little towards the bedroom door and stopped when his eyes fell upon the computer situated by the side, and where a stream of moonlight landed on the stack of papers inside the printer.

Elsa rolled over in her sleep with a contented moan, and stretched her left arm out to unconsciously feel cool skin under its touch – but when the sensation of slightly damp cotton sent a message to her mind that he was not there, her eyelids fluttered open with the awareness.

"Jack?" she mumbled quietly in case he was still in the room, but only silence greeted her. She pushed herself up on her right elbow as she ran her left hand through her hair, her body still fuzzy from deep sleep and her eyelids still heavy. Had it been a dream? Was Jack never in her bed?

Mildly groggy, she rolled back onto her edge of the mattress and swung her legs down, scratching the left side of her head to try and attain some semblance of alertness. She rarely slept so heavily, but after the past few days she was not surprised. Rising from the bed and stumbling towards the door, she unhooked her white dressing gown from the hook and covered herself up to keep her modesty intact in case anyone else happened to be awake.

It was when she opened the bedroom door and saw a dim light creep through that she knew where he was. Quietly stepping through the door and moving to the kitchen, she saw Jack leaning with his elbows on the breakfast bar, illuminated by the dim lights above his head like a pool player in a bar. His left hand covered his mouth and his right hand held a pencil that he pensively tapped against some paper.

"Jack," she murmured into the quiet room, "what time is it?"

He stiffened and looked toward her, his face looking exceptionally absent-minded. He blinked a few times to understand the simple question, and then quickly checked his phone that lay on the bar to his left.

"Um, two-thirty. Sorry, did I wake you?" he asked, reaching for the cup of coffee to his right. He looked awake and bright as a daisy, but his expression still retained that look of semi-awareness.

"You weren't in bed…can't you sleep?" she yawned, walking towards the bar and sitting on the stool closest to him. Jack shook his head as he sipped from his coffee.

"No, not right now. I, erm…I had, I had a…nightmare, about last night."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, her body and mind starting to awaken now and become more alert.

"Now? In the middle of the night?" he gave her part incredulous, part  _'yes'_.

"It's as good a time as any. Let me make some coffee and you can tell me about it."

She rose from the stool and moved over to the dispenser, beginning the usual routine of pod-water-button and sliding her favourite cup from the cupboard above. She glanced back a couple of times, and Jack was still staring at a fixed point on the front door, the back of his head messy and untidy from a  _lot_  of awkward, pensive scratching.

Once the coffee was made not a minute later, she tapped his shoulder to get his attention and inclined her head over to the sofa, in an unspoken suggestion to get comfortable. He nodded with agreement, and with two sheets of paper in one hand and his cup in the other, he followed Elsa to the largest sofa where she had already sat with her legs together and facing him, patiently sipping from her mocha. Slumping down onto the soft cushions with the paper-wielding arm across the back, he stared at the inert television screen and spoke. He told her all about the nightmare, what he saw and heard, what he felt, everything. The fear of never seeing her again, the pain of how they held him down, and how for the first time in his life he was scared to die.

Elsa said nothing as he spoke, just listened and sipped her mocha knowing not to break his momentum. She knew what this meant; the amnesia had been lifted and he could recall everything up to the point he blacked out. When he finally stopped speaking and lifted a trembling cup to his lips, she quickly placed her mocha on the coffee table and shuffled forward to wrap her arms around him, placing his head against her chest as he leaned into her, kissing his hair as she stroked his upper arm.

It must have been something about how she held him, but the echoes of the dream seemed to melt away in his mind, and he relaxed for the first time since he was rudely awoken by the nightmare.

"You should probably get back to bed. Early start." he said pointedly.

"I've had a good four hours sleep, Jack. I'll be fine. What about you?"

"I don't think I'll sleep tonight." he said a little bitterly, tossing the papers onto the table. When the two sheets stopped floating along the surface, Elsa could just about make out the sketches of two men's faces on each of the papers, illuminated by the exceptionally dim light from the breakfast bar. The details were too hazy to make out, but she could definitely see a thick moustache on one of them. She tried to think of something to change the subject, to get Jack's mind away from his nightmare.

"Well, as we've got a few hours to kill before I have to leave for work, I have an idea. How about I get some more paper, and we can come up with a design for  _our_  company's logo?"

Jack pulled away and gazed into her eyes, a glimmer of positivity shining in them once more as he half-smiled at her suggestion. He had completely forgotten about that.

"Sounds like a plan." he said, the half-smile turning into a grin when a completely unrelated thought crossed his mind. Elsa narrowed her eyes at the impish expression that flashed across his face, which was hidden almost as soon as it appeared. He quickly rose to his feet and strode off towards their bedroom, and she could swear she heard him snicker to himself.

"Where are you going?" she called after him.

"To find a ruler!" he called back, and then whispered to himself as he rounded the corner out of her sight towards Hiccup's bedroom…

"…and play a prank."


	35. A Magnificent and Malevolent Bitch

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Addressing some concerns:
> 
> There are a few more chapters to go.

There are two kinds of pranks: simple, and elaborate. The latter can range from a complicated setup or delivery, or a systematic and methodical set of situations designed to cause maximum hilarity, much like the game Mouse Trap. However, the more complex a prank the harder it is to pull off – so sometimes simplicity is better.

And simple was  _exactly_  what Jack was going for…and it involved Hiccup's prosthetic lower leg.

It was seven in the morning and Elsa had long left for work. Jack had intended to bring her in on it, but at four o'clock she had made it crystal clear that she wanted no part of it for plausible deniability…but she expected an update on the success of the prank and if possible, a photograph. Jack had smirked and teased that he knew there was a prankster in her somewhere, to which she had rolled her eyes and urged him to continue with the design for Snowfield-Overland.

Quite a few ideas had been bounced between them, from the letters S and O entwined with each other to Fractal Fashion's crocus motif with North Pole's reindeer and sleigh flying across it. It had gotten to the point where the suggestions kind of melted into one, and Elsa decided to do away with them all and keep it simple, but combine elements that were personal to both of them, something they had a shared love of.

"What about our snowflakes?" she had suggested. Jack, who had been busy doodling random faces had stiffened on the breakfast bar's stool, and snapped his head to Elsa with an expression of  _'that's genius! Why didn't I think of that?!'_  and shot off into their bedroom. He returned not ten seconds later, darting past a somewhat bewildered Elsa with the snowflake picture he had drawn before their date and another piece of paper, and as soon as his butt touched the stool he furiously sketched away. Elsa cocked her head with interest as she watched the pencil carve away at the fresh sheet, her eyes occasionally darting up to Jack's face. He wore an expression that danced between near insanity and gleeful anticipation as he drew away like a man possessed, and as the sunlight began to creep into the living room with its golden splendour – and after a few more coffees – he was finished.

It was simple and yet elegant, and all Jack needed to do at this point was fold the drawing of his snowflake in half, and place it down the true centre of Elsa's design. They matched perfectly, Elsa's half on the right and Jack's half on the left. Catching her eye with a proud expression, she returned it with an approving smile and a nod.

"Perfect, wouldn't you agree?" she said, sidling her stool next to Jack's and wrapping her right arm around his lower back and resting her hand on his right hip. He felt the familiar tingles shoot up his spine and slightly stiffened under her touch. He turned his head towards her and pursed his lips in a content smile, his eyes flicking between each of her own cerulean pools.

The air was just right.

Neither of them had noticed that their lips had now parted as they breathed a little heavily, feeling their hearts begin to punch the inside of their ribcages like a boxer. Slowly, their heads moved closer together, their noses brushing with the gentleness of a cool breeze but their lips tingling with anticipation.

It wasn't their first kiss by any stretch of the imagination, but when Jack closed the distance and captured her mouth it sure felt like it all over again. He felt her quiet moans in her throat and, to heighten the sensation, moved his left hand up to delicately caress the side of her face from her temple down to her jaw. She responded by placing both hands on his waist and pulling them closer together so their chests touched, and with their positions on the very edge of the stools their thighs nestled next to each other. Jack could feel Elsa's leg brushing against something  _very_  sensitive, and judging by the mild hitching of breath that he could feel in her mouth, his thigh was doing the same.

The passionate dancing of lips and waltzing of tongues took on a new level, with moans being exchanged between the two – each one heightening the other and driving the two lovers to step up the heated union. It was then that Elsa pulled away, breathlessly panting and trying to blink away the heat in her cheeks and ears. Jack frowned a little at the rapid ramping up of physical passion and then sudden stop.

"Much as…much as I would love – and I mean  _love_  – to continue this…I think I need to get ready for work…" she murmured, finding it difficult to get the words out. Jack weakly nodded with a blank expression, not even bothering to attempt speech at that point. What she did next was a little pointless as she already had him completely under her spell, but she leaned forward so her lips brushed his left ear, and then whispered with a hint of coyness.

"…and you have a prank to pull off."

Jack was split between shuddering with pleasurable excitement at the sensations shooting through his body, and the rush of excited anticipation at the practical joke. He had completely forgotten about that, but given the past ten minutes, he could be forgiven.

"Yeah…prank…okay…gotcha. Prank." he attempted.

So, at six o'clock Elsa had rushed out of their bedroom, dressed to lead with her make up done to perfection, quickly snatched the snowflake drawings and planted a goodbye kiss that lasted far longer than it should have done.

"There's a lot for me to do, so I'll be back about five. Is that okay?" she had asked, seconds before diving out of the door as she was starting to be late.

"That's cool. Can I use your laptop? I'm gonna email Phil and ask him to send me anything that I can do from home. I want to be useful, even if I'm stuck here."

Home. It still sounded weird no matter how many times he said it. With moving around a lot, from Burgess to Corona to Arendelle, he never really laid his roots down or allowed himself to become attached to a particular apartment or household. Hell, he was only just starting to see his old apartment as a consistent home as opposed to a base of operations, so to speak. Of course, that attitude went down in flames.

If he was honest, he was a little reluctant to call Elsa's place home, but it kept slipping out. Maybe there was a reason for that.

"That's fine. My login password is  _marshmallow_. See you later, Frost." she smiled, sneaking another quick kiss on his cheek. Jack watched her disappear out of the door, quickly hop into her Cadillac and wave to him as she drove off.

"Good luck."

He turned as he closed the door behind him, and with his hands on his hips he gazed at Hiccup's prosthetic lower leg, hidden by one of the red sofa cushions. Ideas fought in his mind for what to do, but they  _all_  involved the leg.

_Low hanging fruit, Jack._

_**Hey, all's fair in love and practical jokes!** _

Then, it hit him.

He quickly strode over to his phone on the breakfast bar and hurriedly typed out a message to Elsa, hoping that she would be able to respond soon. For what he was planning, he needed to clear it with her first.

" _Base Camp to Snow Queen. Requesting permission to prank your sister, too. Will need password for bedroom computer. – Jack x"_

The reply came back within five or so minutes, either she had pulled over to reply or had stopped at a traffic light.

" _Permission granted, soldier! Snow Queen expects visual confirmation of success. Password is storminside. Godspeed! Love you – Elsa x"_

Jack grinned madly, and shot off to their bedroom.

This was going to be good.

* * *

 

Hans knew exactly what would happen as soon as he handed over the evidence yesterday evening, and it was a conclusion that he was comfortable with. Maleficent was duty-bound to report Hans to the State Police as an accessory to or accomplice in the crimes committed. Not fifteen minutes later, two detectives who he later discovered were called Detectives Diaval and Aurora arrived, and almost as soon as they walked through the door, D.A. Maleficent indicated towards the young heir sat opposite her desk.

" _Stand up, please."_

_Hans did as he was told. Robotically, emptily. He knew what was going to happen. His life as a free man was over – but given the nature of his friendship with Black, was he ever truly free? He stood with his back to the detectives and felt his arms be roughly pulled together behind him, and the kiss of cold steel. He felt the metal tightly wrap itself around his wrists with a rapid succession of clicks, and heard one of the most iconic speeches in police history._

" _You have the right to remain silent…"_

It was a clever move on Maleficent's part, he thought as he sat on the uncomfortable steel chair, his elbows resting on the table of the interrogation room as he ran his finger over the rim of the plastic cup of cold coffee in front of him. The evidence had shown bribery and corruption of members of Arendelle City's police force, and she knew that if she reported Hans to  _them_ , Southernisle and Black would undoubtedly get wind of Hans' arrest and close ranks. Any further evidence that hid behind their walls would be…misplaced. Therefore, she went above them to the State Police that were attached to the D.A's office, people that she could trust.

The second thing she did was make sure that there was to be  _no_  leaking of his arrest to the media or anybody else for that matter, and if anyone did happen to let anything slip she would find out whoever it was, and make sure that the next career they entered after being unceremoniously fired would be nothing more than a litter picker in the city streets. Naturally, people fell in line because Maleficent's reputation as a 'hard-ass bitch' – their words, not hers – preceded her.

Staring vacantly at the cup of coffee in front of him, it struck him that he hadn't properly  _slept_  in twenty four hours as his body felt drained and his eyelids as heavy as iron. Sure, he was able to grab a few hours in the holding cells in between statement taking, more questioning and simply being  _left_  alone in the interrogation room but his body needed more than that. His mind felt fuzzy and barely aware, and if he was quite honest he was getting sick of seeing the same white concrete walls around him and his own tired reflection in the one-way mirror.

He began to succumb to the need for sleep once more as he crossed his arms together and rested his head upon them, hoping for at least two hours of slumber before the process repeated itself all over again. Alas, he would get no respite as the door to the interrogation room burst open. He had just dozed off before being awoken with a start and disorientation gripped his eyes as he squinted through a sleepy haze at the visitors – the same damn ones who had been visiting him for most of the night until they had gone home.

"Good morning, Mr Southernisle!" came the bright yet cynical tones of Detective Diaval. He possessed a strong Irish accent that was tinted with a little world-weariness – an attitude uncommon to people near his age of thirty but common to those working in law enforcement. Behind him appeared Detective Aurora, a shorter, pretty woman that had hair the colour of sunshine. She didn't have the same misanthropic expression that Diaval had, but in her eyes it was clear she had seen a lot of bad things. Hans merely nodded his greeting, and winced as he gulped the cold, disgusting substance that loosely resembled coffee.

"What time is it?" he croaked, having completely lost track. Aurora checked her watch.

"Nine thirty. Did you get a good night's sleep?" she asked. Hans didn't know whether it was his lack-of-sleep addled mind or not, but her voice was as sweet as the dawn chorus.

"No," he replied simply, "but I wouldn't mind some more coffee."

Diaval nodded sympathetically as he sat opposite, Aurora following suit after she closed the door behind her. He pulled a Dictaphone from his suit pocket and, clicking it once to record, placed it with the microphone facing Hans.

"I'll have some brought in. I think we could all use some. For now, though, I'd like to talk about the murder of Celeste Whitehall and the double murder of Sarah and Sophie Overland."

Usual police tactic. Perp wants a drink or something, so the detectives hold it like a carrot…'tell us what you know, and we'll get you a drink'. Hans surmised to himself that it was odd that they used that tactic given that Hans had voluntarily turned himself in. Old habits die hard, he supposed.

"I thought I told you everything." he muttered. Diaval smiled hollowly, shrugging as he did so.

"The D.A. wants us to cross every T and dot every I. So, if you wouldn't mind running us through the events leading up to and including Celeste's death?"

Hans slumped back in the chair and adjusted himself for the fiftieth time as he tried desperately to re-engage his brain. He looked bang at Diaval as he spoke; occasionally glancing at Aurora as he did so.

"As the 'representative' of Southernisle and Weselton at that given moment, I was ordered by Richard Black-"

"As in: ' _the big cheese of Black Advertising, Richard Black'_?"

"Yeah. He wanted my company to either dig up or manufacture evidence that could be used against Kai Snowfield in order to force him to resign."

"So, Kai Snowfield is innocent of the charges against him?"

"Yes. Pritchard Black and I met with Julian Weselton, and we talked about what we could do. It was then that Pritchard came up with the idea of using a prostitute to entrap Kai. The Duke gave it the go-ahead, and Pritchard had the prostitute wait along Kai's usual route home from work, under the guise of a victim of assault. I followed them in my car as he drove her to the police precinct, and used a camera to take photographs of her attempting to kiss him."

"Southernisle would then use those photographs as blackmail, in order to force Kai to give up his majority stock and resign from his position. I developed and handed over the photographs to Pritchard, and I thought that was the end of it. I was wrong. I was later told by him to meet with two men that Southernisle regularly use for cleaning up evidence and intimidation…"

Hans trailed off and looked to the side, a despairing look in his eyes as he spoke. Even if this was the third time, the image still burned into his mind like a red-hot brand on his psyche.

"I asked what was going on, and they said they received new orders from Pritchard. I followed them into the forest an hour or so north east of here, where I found out exactly what Pritchard had told them to do. They said he had told them to dispose of the prostitute in whichever way they wanted to – which happened to be a pillow over her face as I later learned – and to plant evidence that would point them to Kai should her body ever be discovered. Before you ask, I don't know where they hid her."

Hans slammed his fist down on the table, his eyes wet and impotent rage in his heart. Diaval raised an eyebrow and Aurora tensed, raising a hand to the one-way mirror as a signal that everything was okay.

"She wasn't supposed to die! She was supposed to be paid off and forced to leave the city, not be murdered and cast aside like cheap trash!" he practically roared, cursing the name of Black with every fibre of his being.

"You loved her, didn't you?" Aurora asked quietly, but Hans shook his head.

"No, but every time I saw her leave Pritchard's apartment, she was always in a worse state than before. He was slowly killing her, and I was too much of a fucking coward to stop it. Don't you see? If I had done something, if I had said something…I could have saved her…"

Diaval exhaled deeply through his nose, and slid out a fresh sheet of paper from under the one he had been writing notes upon.

"Tell us about the Overland murders." Aurora asked evenly, leaning forward with her arms on the desk. Hans glanced over at her, and a new sadness appeared in his eyes.

* * *

 

Everything was ready. Hiccup's leg was where it should be, with the picture that had been printed off taped to the plastic shin – and something had been put inside the socket where Hiccup would put his stump as a little extra bonus.

So, all Jack had to do now was  _wait_.

Elsa had informed him earlier that Anna usually stirred around nine thirty, so he had been waiting patiently outside her door with his phone ready. As soon as he heard movement, he would carefully stand in the space where the door was opened  _just_  enough for him to take a photo without being seen, and then hide in the bathroom to the left of Anna's bedroom.

"Jacky-boy, what're ye doin'?"

His heard whirled behind him at the sound of Merida's sleepy voice and he had to suppress a snigger at how unruly her fiery hair had become with a night's sleep. Well…unrulier. She regarded him with an expression that danced between confusion and suspicion, and she was about to repeat her question when he lifted a finger to his grinning mouth, and gestured with his phone hand to Anna's open doorway. Merida narrowed her eyes and quietly walked forward, passing Jack and peering into Anna's bedroom. He had to suppress yet another snigger when he saw her eyes widen and cover her mouth to muffle a snort.

"Ach, ye're prankin' 'er, aren't ya?" she whispered, turning her amused eyes to his. Jack's grin widened and he nodded emphatically.

Merida could've cheered inside. All through high school, Jack had a reputation for being an incorrigible trickster and practical joker. Many a time had he covered the boy's toilets with saran wrap, shoved cans of exploding snakes into the teacher's desks…the usual, garden variety pranks. Merida had been quite proud of one where he had taped a klaxon to their Geography teacher's chair in such a position where as soon as the poor victim sat down, the entire classroom was filled with an ear splitting  _HONK_  that made her fall off the chair in fright, and the entire class jump out of their skins. Jack, however, had wisely requested a toilet break before it happened – though everyone could hear his laughter from the hallway.

From what she had been told by Elsa and Anna, Jacky-boy had all but lost his mischievous side after he lost his family. Sure, there was the occasional instance of him poking fun at someone – Kristoff's Christmas present, for example – but not much beyond that. Until now.

The sounds of shuffling under a blanket and sleepy murmurs reached their ears from Anna's bedroom, and Jack tensed, his eyes glimmering with mirth.

"Showtime!" he whispered, and Merida nodded with grin that mirrored his. Jack moved to the barely open doorway and turned on the video camera function, while Merida stood on her tiptoes to peer over his shoulder.

They watched with suppressed sniggers as Anna's head tossed back and forth, her hair in a far more bed-swept state than Merida's. She rolled to her left and rested her arm along the empty space in her double bed – Kristoff had gone home last night – and her fingers crept along something unfamiliar and plastic. Sensing the foreignness of the object in her bed, her eyes fluttered open as she faced it…

…and then with an expression of pure shock and horror, she shrieked and frantically scrambled away from it, completely forgetting the edge of the bed behind her. Taking the blanket with her, she fell off with an ungraceful thud and a muffled  _'ow!'_ , not hearing the desperately stifled laughter from her doorway.

"Quick, the bathroom!" he hissed.

Jack and Merida darted into the bathroom that was located between Anna and Hiccup's bedrooms, closing the door behind them just enough so they could hide, but hear everything that was going on…including a second muffled thud from the other side of the wall to their right.

"Hiccup jus' tried ta get outta bed without his leg!" Merida hissed, her eyes alight with mirth. Jack nodded vigorously, cackling under his breath. They heard a less than dignified sequence of thuds starting from Hiccup's bedroom and moving towards the hallway, along with stomps coming from Anna's. Jack had real difficulty concealing his laughter as he pictured the Berk heir hopping out of his bedroom, deprived of his prosthetic leg.

"Who screamed?! Is everything okay?! And who's got my  _leg?!_ " they heard Hiccup shout from the hallway, and then the freaked-out voice of Anna in reply.

"Was that you, Hiccup? Did you put your leg in my bed?!"

"No! Why, why why why would I do that?" he said incredulously. Merida could almost see him waving his arms around.

"You mean, you didn't-"

" _No!_ "

Then there was total silence for a brief moment, broken only by the simultaneous uttering of one name.

"JAAAAAACK!"

They couldn't hold it in any longer, and raucous guffaws of laughter erupted around the bathroom as they staggered about in the grip of mirth. Merida had to hold onto the sink to stay upright, and Jack could barely keep the phone facing the door, which then burst open to reveal a furious-looking Anna, an incredulous looking Hiccup, and a prosthetic leg in Anna's right hand. Taped to the shin was a picture of Nicholas Cage with one of his decidedly more manic expressions – Jack's inspiration for the prank being the  _Godfather_  with a prosthetic leg in place of a horse's head. He had just enough time to take a photo of the 'three' of them in the doorway before doubling over in cackling laughter, and once Merida caught sight of the leg, any chance she had of retaining some semblance of calm went flying out of the window as her own peals joined with Jack's.

Anna's eyes narrowed, but the  _'yeah yeah, you got me'_  smile that was creeping over her mouth threatened to undo the fuming expression.

"You little…I am gonna get you for that!"

Jack waved a hand as if to say  _'stahp, you're killing me here'_  as he hid the phone in his pocket, and feeling his lungs and diaphragm start to get a little annoyed with the constant comedy, collapsed backwards onto the rim of the bath behind him.

"I'm telling your girlfriend on you!" she whined, and after returning the leg to its owner, she turned on her feet and marched off to her bedroom. Merida gave Jack a look as if to say  _'you're in trouble now'_ , to which he replied with a mischievous wink and an imperceptible nod towards Hiccup, who with a face that danced between amusement and annoyance – without checking – put his stump inside the socket of his prosthetic leg.

A resounding  _squelch_  reached their ears, and amidst a second eruption of giggles Hiccup's face screwed up in pained disgust as he slowly pulled the leg off, leaving splodges of extra thick yoghurt all over his stump. Merida gripped her stomach as renewed laughter possessed her chest, and Jack shot both of his arms in the air with victory. The thudding of footsteps reached their ears and Anna reappeared in the doorway clutching her phone, and as soon as she spotted the mess all over Hiccup's prosthesis and stump she couldn't help but snort with laughter too.

"Yes! Double prank, two for the price of one!" Jack cheered, joining Merida in a high-five.

Hiccup groaned and rolled his eyes, gesturing impatiently for the two tricksters to remove themselves from the bathroom.

"You're a magnificent bastard, Jack. You're worse than Astrid. C'mon, I need to clean up."

"Alright, alright. Oh God, that was hilarious. Flawless victory." he chuckled as he stumbled out of the bathroom with Merida, then froze just as he left the doorway.

"Wait, Hiccup. One more thing…" he gasped, and pulled the phone out of his pocket as he darted back into the bathroom. Hiccup had just started running the hot faucet, and turned to meet Jack with his arms wide open in exasperation.

"What now…oh, no you don't! Delete that!"

Jack shook his head with a mad grin as he took photo after photo, and quickly scarpered before Hiccup could hop after him.

"JAAAAACK!"

* * *

 

Given that the impending merger was just around the corner, all hands were on deck in the Fractal Fashion building – and most likely in the North Pole too.

There was a ridiculous amount to organise and co-ordinate. The leadership structure had already been ascertained, Jack and Elsa would co-lead Snowfield-Overland in its ventures while the separate boards of directors would unify. As the merger was still in the foetal stages, there were a  _lot_  of conference or single phone calls made between the two companies by all relevant departments, for example the kids clothing floor was in constant contact with the toy design section in the Pole so they could co-ordinate the production of toys along with clothing that would be adorned with that toy's image.

Sales projections and cost-saving strategies were a must, as well. The Pole would be spending a lot of money in the friendly takeover of Fractal Fashion and Elsa was anxious to make sure that anything Snowfield-Overland bought, produced or created was done as cheaply as possible but with the highest quality it could muster. The last thing the company would need would be to go under due to debt or unmanageable costs – because that would be handing over  _both_  companies to Black on a silver platter.

She had also commanded the accounts floor to draw up some financial forecasts of the coming year, estimations of oncoming events like movie releases, changes in trends, the potential rise of costs for things like fuel and manufacturing equipment (this was more to do with the Pole than anything else), along with the salary for employees, directors and herself. She had wisely chosen to waive her yearly bonus to help with the financial costs, which was much appreciated by the accounts staff. In any case, she was well-paid as the CEO so what she received would be more than adequate, and she was certain that Jack would do the same. The initial estimation of the accounts section was that it would be hard going at first and they  _may_  have to downscale some aspects of the unified company, but if they were clever with their marketing and productions they saw no reason that Snowfield-Overland wouldn't be successful.

The final thing that she had been worried about was the actual transition itself. With both companies operating separately for so long, they had different ways of going about things – symbolised not least by the barely controlled chaos of the Pole in comparison to the relative serenity of Fractal Fashion. She was pleased that for the immediate future there would be no 'elves' causing accidents in Snowfield Towers, but she had made a mental note to liaise with Jack on their reining in when they all moved into a singular building.

Phil had been a massive help in all of this. Many calls had been bounced back and forth between them, and it had gotten to the point that when Elsa briefly left the building for her mid-morning break, she had purchased a Bluetooth earpiece so she could give her arms a rest. He had come up with several cost-cutting ideas which Elsa vetoed, altered or approved, along with sending over several images of their upcoming toys. Unbeknownst to her, he had even commissioned a prototype  _Olaf the Snowman_  plush cuddly toy and sent the image of it to her work email, and upon seeing it for the first time she had gushed about how impossibly  _cute_ it was. He had also mentioned that upon Jack's recovery, he would be operating almost exclusively from Snowfield Towers and liaising with Phil over the phone as a sort of CEO-slash-representative. Elsa's heart jumped a little at this information, of course.

The twin snowflake picture had also gone down a treat, with several members of the design department questioning where she had gotten the idea, to which she had answered that it was a collaborative effort between her and Jack. Which was true – she suggested it, he drew it. They had quickly made replicas of the design and even added some icy colours to it, Jack's half was a navy blue at Elsa's suggestion while her side was an icier colour. When they showed her the finished product, she wasted no time in applauding their efforts and told them to get it to the internal mail office as soon as possible so they could replace Fractal Fashion's logo with it, along with the new name when the merger was complete. She also snagged one of the replica designs to show Jack when she would return home.

When her lunch break had come round, she had collapsed into her office chair and let out one of the most exhausted exhalations of breath she had ever done in her life. Her legs, feet, arms, even her  _throat_  ached with overuse and her mind was holding up a white flag, pleading for surrender.

"I either need a drink, a holiday, or sleep. Maybe all of the above." she muttered to herself with her eyes closed, relishing the relative silence of her office. After hearing nothing but voices, numbers and the hustle and bustle of both buildings all day so far, she melted into the serene quiet around her…and then remembered she was awaiting a certain message.

Re-activating her phone which lagged a little in protest, she was greeted with several notifications. One was a message from Anna, the other a message from Jack with two attached photographs, and an email from him which bore the subject  _WATCH THIS FIRST._  She decided to start with her sister.

" _YOUR BOYFRIEND IS A MEAN MEAN MAN! – Anna xox"_

Elsa snorted into giggles. Evidently Jack's prank had been successful, and it brought a new urge to find out precisely what he had done. So, she followed his instructions by opening the email, downloading the attached video and playing it.

She was greeted by her screen being filled with Anna's bed and quiet snickering from the loudspeakers. She could make something out that was placed on her vacant pillow, and watched as Anna reached her arm out in her sleep and rested it on the unknown object.

Then, one of the  _most_  unladylike snorts of laughter erupted from her lips as she watched Anna shriek in terror, scramble backwards from the object and fall disgracefully off the other side of the bed, taking the entire duvet with her. Tears wetted her eyes with mirth as she covered her mouth to muffle the sounds, watching as the camera shook and retreated from the doorway along with the hissed voice of Jack stating  _'Quick, the bathroom!'_.

She was still giggling as she then opened the message with the two pictures, and selected the one that looked like Hiccup and Anna standing in the bathroom doorway along with Merida's hair on the right side. Bringing it to full screen, she then doubled over in laughter and slapped her hands on her desk a few times to cope. Anna wore a fuming expression as she clutched Hiccup's prosthesis, and Elsa could easily work out what Jack had been aiming for – Anna would have woken up to Nicholas Cage's face attached to Hiccup's leg, and the first thing her eyes would have rested on would be the terrifying grin he wore in some of his crazier movies.

It wasn't over, however. She wondered if she would survive the last photograph, but in a moment of masochism she pressed it anyway, and nearly fell off her chair. Hiccup was clutching his prosthesis, which had something icky spilling over the top…and that same something all over his leg stump. He wore an expression of terrified realisation as he stared at the camera, and she could only  _imagine_  what the substance was.

"Oh God, thank you Jack. I really,  _really_  needed that!" she said, the words coming out with severe difficulty in between guffaws of laughter.

* * *

 

Four o'clock in the afternoon, and Hans was back in the interrogation room…bored out of his mind.

He had waived the right to legal counsel which the detectives thought was incredibly odd, and even when  _due process_  dictated that they made sure he was aware of his right to a defence attorney, he still refused. It had even gotten to the point that they had recorded him verbally waiving his privilege along with a written consent form in case it was needed.

Hans was playing the long game, in a sense. He knew that if Southernisle got the slightest hint of his arrest, then his actions over the past two days would have been for naught. He couldn't even trust any state-appointed attorneys to not accidentally spill the beans.

Having been held in the holding cells between when he last spoke to the detectives and now, he was puzzled and a little exasperated to find that he would once again be hauled over to the interrogation room for another visitor. He didn't bother to hide the groan that escaped from his mouth, to which the officer in charge simply shrugged and said  _'such is the life of an arrested criminal'._  He was right, Hans couldn't dispute that, but he wondered whether he could take any more back and forth trips and repeat statements before he cracked.

He wondered who was coming  _this_  time. He hoped that it wouldn't be the two detectives again, as he was, quite frankly, getting a little sick of having to repeat himself. There are only so many ways you can tell the truth. He also hoped it wouldn't be anyone from Southernisle or Black Advertising, and he  _definitely_  hoped it wouldn't be Pritchard.

To his right, the door sharply opened and he sighed resignedly, preparing himself for the inevitable onslaught of questions…and then stiffened upright in his chair as he had a visitor he was not expecting.

Maleficent's tall frame appeared from behind the door – technically it was the documents she happened to be holding that appeared first and  _then_  the rest of her followed, and her eyes were firmly fixed on the information in her hand as she stepped through and closed the door behind her. Hans shuffled in his seat and rolled his shoulders back, regarding the D.A. with an expectant expression.

She silently walked over to the table and sat in the chair that Diaval had occupied many hours ago, resting the sheets of paper on the table as she absorbed the information. She was wearing what appeared to be the same black suit she wore yesterday but with a small change, instead of a white blouse she had elected for emerald green. Her lips were the same blood red, but there was another change. Instead of her hair being swept back down her spine, she wore her bangs in victory rolls that  _almost_  mimicked horns on her head, leaving the rest of her hair to trail elegantly down her back and shoulders in long, loose curls. Hans knew that hairstyle well – it was her battle hairstyle when she was about to go to war.

The silence between them was verging on uncomfortable, with Hans constantly changing his position while Maleficent barely moved, her eyes moving left to right along each page. He wondered how many times he had read the documents in front of her since she received them last night, and as he gazed at the intimidating D.A. he recalled the speech that the Duke had given Richard Black many, many years ago when they first partnered up.

" _This woman is both magnificent and malevolent. If there is a weakness, if there is even the slightest shred of evidence she will exploit it. For what we are about to do, this woman is dangerous."_

" _So why don't we buy her off?"_

" _You don't understand, Richard. Have you ever heard of the expression 'the long arm of the law'? If the police and the judicial system represent the arm, Maleficent is the iron fist."_

" _That's a little overdramatic, no?"_

" _Not in the least. We have only ever lost one court case, and that was to her… and that was because she found a defendant's outstanding parking ticket. Through that, she found out and was able to prove that he was embezzling money from his company, and used that against him. Trust me on this; you do not want to cross her."_

She closed the folder she had been reading from with a quiet slam and gazed imperiously into Hans's eyes, and he started to shrink in his seat. All he can hear in that room is the thunderous heartbeat in his ears and the slightly loud breathing through his nose. Maleficent, by comparison, didn't move an inch, like she's a trapdoor spider waiting for its prey to wander a little too close to its nest.

Finally, she spoke, and it made him jump out of his skin. Her elegant, rich English tones swam through his ears like music, but stabbed at his mind with the intonations of power.

"Mr Southernisle, what we have here is enough to sentence you to – including the double murder in Burgess – two counts of twenty-five to life, and that's not counting the three instances of you being an accessory after the fact. If the sentences run consecutively, which I will make sure that they do, you will likely not be released from prison until you are old and grey."

Hans paled a little. He knew the law as well as she did, but for her to put it so bluntly, coldly and almost maliciously, it sent a ball of fear into his stomach.

"Twice you could have prevented a murder, and twice you could have gone to the police-"

"Except the cops couldn't be trusted." he blurted out, prompting a raised eyebrow and a clenched jaw at his interruption. Her cheekbones seemed to sharpen just that little bit and her eyes flashed with cold fire.

"Be that as it may, there are several other departments that you could have reported the incidents to. After all, you did it yesterday."

"What I gave you was the tip of the iceberg." he stated, once his nerves had calmed down to the point that he could speak  _and_  think. Maleficent's eyes narrowed and she leaned forward a little, keeping her green orbs firmly on his. He couldn't help but back away an inch or two.

"What do you mean by that?" she asked. Hans adjusted himself once more, and prepared to speak what would very well be the most important set of sentences in his life.

"When I handed myself in with the knowledge that you would be duty-bound to report me, I gave you enough for a search warrant."

"For where?" she asked, but Hans could sense a hungry anticipation in her voice.

"For the Southernisle building's records room." he finished, playing his card. Maleficent exhaled deeply, and leaned back against her chair. Her eyes still bored into his, and he could almost feel her vision searing the back of his skull.

"Go on."

"The Duke has a habit of recording and filing everything that Southernisle has ever done, from jury rigging, bribery, evidence tampering, and in the most recent cases, murder and arson – including the company or person they did it for."

"You mean to say that Julian Weselton has hard copy records of every crime his company has ever committed?" she asked, almost incredulously. Just like Hans, she couldn't believe the brazen complacency.

"Yes, and on each record is whoever employed them at that given time, including-"

"Black Advertising Corporation." she finished, not bothering to hide the realisation. This was it, this was what she needed to bring Richard Black's empire crashing down, and raze Southernisle to the ground.

Hans nodded and looked away. His hand had been played, the offer made. Now it was up to the woman who used to be his company's mortal adversary, the woman who right now was the only chance he had to free himself of Southernisle's legacy and Pritchard Black's shadow.

"I suppose you are expecting some sort of deal." she said, a heavy tone of cynicism in her words. Hans shrugged as his mouth twitched to the side.

"Well, I wasn't thinking about that originally, but-"

"You  _know_ I don't make deals, Mr Southernisle." she cut him off, giving him the answer he already knew he would get.

"However, given the sheer weight of evidence and the offering of more, I  _may_  make an exception in your case."

Hans looked up in surprise and opened his mouth to thank her, but she coldly held up a hand. The words obediently stilled in his throat, and he swallowed them down as he waited for her next few words.

"That is, of course, dependent on whether your information leads to the indictments of Black Advertising and Southernisle. I want both of them, not one or the other. They must both be brought before the law, in addition to the corrupt police officers that I will have Internal Affairs investigate upon their perusal of the evidence."

He nodded in understanding, and fought the urge to shake her hand in thanks. Had he given in, she probably would have him imprisoned for life for daring to do so. She went quiet for what felt like an eternity, and Hans wondered if he was going to explode in green fire with the intensity of her gaze. This was why he respected this woman so, because of her ability to command a room simply by  _sitting_  there.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked him, suspicion evident in her eyes and voice, "Why are you effectively dooming your family's company?"

Hans blinked at the armour-piercing question as he looked away, and with a deep inhalation through his nose he began to speak the words he had held inside him for so long, the truth which had been drowning in the black sand of his nightmares.

"I'm done. I'm tired of being under Pritchard Black's shadow, of being his goon when it comes to his crimes. I'm tired of having my life decided for me by other people, and even though what I'm doing now will put me in jail for  _probably_  most of my life, it's a choice I made for myself. I'm happy with that."

He chuckled slightly, as an afterthought crossed his mind.

"Plus, I'm pretty sure that given the option, Pritchard would screw me over if it was in his best interest. I'm just doing it  _first_."

Maleficent regarded the side of his face for a while, trying to work out this man. She couldn't lie, the documents that sat on the desk constituted everything she had ever dreamed of needing, and when Hans told her that there was  _more_ , it was like her birthday and Christmas rolled into one. It was almost too good to be true.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, taking a chance. Her eyes flashed with a little disdain, but she did a rare thing and decided to humour him.

"If you must."

"Your real name is Jane Moors, but you seem to prefer the nickname Maleficent. Why?"

Maleficent's mouth curled ever so slightly, a ghost of a smile gracing her angular features.

"It was your company that coined the moniker, actually. When I won the case in which Southernisle represented the defendant, Julian Weselton quite childishly referred to me as  _'the most magnificent and malevolent bitch that ever walked this earth'._ Naturally, the newspapers combined the two into a portmanteau, and the rest is history."

"But why do you keep it?"

"Because I like it," she said, a predatory smile across her lips, "often one's reputation precedes them, and if it can be summarised into a single moniker? All the better."

Hans smiled faintly, and dipped his head as he nodded. He took a deep breath as every secret weapon he possessed had been used, and now his future was in the hands of the woman in front of him, and the law that she represented. She finally looked away and gazed down at the folder in front of her, and Hans could see a flicker of something on her features that surprised the hell out of him.

"It is a shame." she muttered almost regretfully. Hans cocked his head and frowned, and she must have sensed his confusion, as she spoke without looking at him.

"Though, as an accomplice you will be facing the relevant jail terms…because the double murder of Sarah and Sophie Overland was committed in Burgess, it is out of my jurisdictional territory. To commit pre-meditated murder against a mother and an eight year old child is unconscionable, and I regret that though he is undoubtedly guilty, only the Burgess D.A. can prosecute Pritchard Black for that particular crime."


	36. Window of Opportunity

Elsa was up and out of bed before her four o'clock alarm had even finished its sonorous, almost shrill tones, she was  _that_  excited.

Today was the day that  _everything_  could change. All the plans that she and Jack made, all the preparation that their companies had undergone, it was all coming to this. If the day went as it should, the shareholders and the board of directors would sell their stock to the Pole, thus finalising the  _White Knight_  acquisition and herald the birth of the new, merged company called Snowfield-Overland.

Jack, however, seemed to be oblivious to the importance of the day as, while his co-CEO-to-be was busy picking out which blouse to go with the business suit – tied between a light blue and ordinary white – he snored his head off. Elsa elected to leave him for a little while, given that he had another nightmare that night, though mercifully managed to return to his slumber after about half an hour of comforting cuddles.

She eventually decided to go with the light blue in honour of the momentous day, and to reflect the colours of their new logo, and upon retrieving the jacket and knee-length pencil skirt with nude tights, she slid the entire garment into a conveniently hung clothing bag, and with a wide smile, carefully tiptoed to the door and exited her bedroom. Before anything else, shower included, she needed a wake-up coffee so naturally the first stop was the kitchen.

She was, however, surprised to see a bright and wide-awake Anna nursing a steaming mug of hot chocolate, dressed in her ridiculously fluffy pink dressing gown and staring at what looked to be an email on her laptop on the breakfast bar, the soft dim lights above casting her younger sister in a sort of noir, thirties nightclub glow. Elsa wondered if she had woken up in a parallel universe, for Jack to still be asleep and her younger sister to be upright and alert at this ungodly hour seemed one hell of a role reversal.

"Can't sleep?" Elsa's voice broke the early morning silence, startling her sister a little as she was jerked out of the email-related reverie. Anna blinked a few times as she whirled her head towards her elder sister, and her face was blank as though those two words were spoken in a language she did not know.

"Buh?" was her only answer. Elsa chuckled to herself as she walked over to one of the dining chairs and rested the suit over the back, taking care not to crease anything. Today had to be  _perfect_.

"You're not supposed to be awake for another four hours or so," Elsa clarified with a smirk, as she delicately readjusted the skirt, "therefore, I came to the logical conclusion that you can't sleep."

Anna rolled her eyes and took a sip of her delicious hot chocolate, returning her gaze to the emails.

"Oh look, my sister is a Vulcan. What a surprise." she said, her tone drier than a desert and possessed of more sarcasm than the entirety of the United Kingdom. Elsa lightly pushed her as she made her way to the coffee dispenser behind the snarky woman.

"So, what's got my sister up so early?" she asked as she fiddled with the mocha pod.

"I dunno, I had a rough night so I got up to make a drink, and for the hell of it decided to check my emails."

"Anything interesting?"

"You could say that." Anna smirked, turning to face Elsa's back as she re-filled the water container and slid it into the back of the machine, slotted a mug under the nozzle and pressed the button, then turned to face her younger sister with an expectant expression.

"Come on, don't keep me in suspense."

"Oh…just a little message from a  _company called Disney!_ " Anna squealed, her face breaking into a beam that could illuminate the city, her arms held vertically in front of her and wiggling with barely restrained delight. Elsa's eyes grew wider than humanly possible, and with a dropped jaw she gasped and rushed forward to embrace her.

"Oh my God, that's wonderful!"

"I know, right?" Anna said enthusiastically once Elsa had deigned to release her from the tight, sisterly hug, "I mean, I didn't hear anything from them for a while and assumed that they'd found something else, but ta-da! They want me to visit their studios to discuss making it into a movie!"

Elsa practically bounced on her feet, imitating Anna's arm-gestures with excited abandon. It's not even four thirty and the day has already started off well.

"When?! When do they want you to travel?"

"Third of January! I know, I know, short notice…but…oh my God-"

It must have been due to being able to actually vocalise the news to someone, but the realisation that her dream was finally coming true, that everything she had worked towards was coming to fruition dropped down on Anna's head like a tonne of bricks.

"-I'm actually going to make a movie…holy shit, oh fuck…this is happening! This is really happening!"

Anna pressed a hand to her heart to try and calm the furious beating in her ribcage, her face blank with the dawning realisation. She even started to hyperventilate with the latent shock, so Elsa gripped her little sister's upper arms and vigorously rubbed to keep her on the mortal plane.

"You have no idea-" she began, but couldn't resist wrapping her arms around her once more.

"-of how proud I am of you right now."

Anna's arms snaked around Elsa's back and squeezed in response, and the elder sister could feel the light jerking that could only be associated with joyful sobs.

"Thanks, 'sis. Thanks for all your encouragement. Thank you for being my sister. God, it's all so surreal…"

They held each other in a loving, sisterly embrace for some time, both basking in the warm feelings that came with familial pride in a sibling's achievements and the knowledge that, for most people, their dreams are not realised but in the case of Anna Snowfield, her life's goal was in sight.

"Hey wait," she pulled away and regarded Elsa with a mildly puzzled expression, "isn't today that our company merges with Jack's?"

Elsa's eyebrows rose, she had forgotten the entire point of her waking up so bright and early with the enthusiastic glee at her sister's news.

"Yes, it is, actually. We're going to be signing the unifying contract today."

Anna's eyes narrowed as she glanced between her elder sister and the general direction of her bedroom.

"So where's Jack, shouldn't he be up?" she asked, prompting a light shrug.

"He had a rough night, so I let him sleep in a little."

Anna's eyes took on an impish look, and a playful smirk crossed her dainty lips. Elsa's jaw jutted out in suspicion as she watched a slowly dawning expression of mischief creep across her younger sister's face. She had seen that look before, worn by someone  _else_.

"What are you planning…" she groaned, and though Anna tried to hide the cheeky expression under a sweet smile of innocence as she slid off the stool, fished her phone from her dressing gown, and made her way towards the bedrooms.

"Nothing…"

Elsa didn't believe her for a second, so once the suspect was out of sight she followed her sister's path, the silence of her movement worthy of a ninja, and once she rounded the corner she caught a glimpse of Anna's left foot before it disappeared into Elsa's bedroom.

There was silence at first, total quiet disturbed only by muffled snickering, but after what seemed like an eternity…it happened.

First, at what seemed to be the highest volume setting known to phone-kind –  _"IT'S PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME! PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME! PEANUT BUTTER JELLY TIME!"_

The terrified yelp of a rudely awoken Jack,

And the heavy  _thud_  that could only mean that he had fallen off the bed in fright.

* * *

 

It's the second time that the young doctor has been asked to visit Pritchard Black's apartment, and after the first time in which he examined and diagnosed a broken nose, he was left with a bad taste in the mouth and an internal refusal to ever set foot inside the conceited, deluded man's abode again.

The problem was, in the doctor's mind, that he is an idealist. He believed firmly that everyone deserves medical treatment, no matter if they are the epitome of moral perfection or not. Therefore, his personal code dictated that when Pritchard Black called him about something very important, that he needed to see him as soon as possible, the doctor felt the obligation to comply.

So, at eleven o'clock in the morning of New Year's Eve, he found himself knocking on the door to Pritchard's apartment, responding to the 'call for help', split between dread and curiosity.

On the phone, the Black heir had sounded subdued, monotone, and almost emotionless. There was none of the arrogance, none of the contemptuous tones that he had encountered several times before, and this had puzzled the doctor to the point that the need to know precisely  _why_  Pritchard sounded so different had exceeded his medical obligation.

He waited for a few minutes, hearing nothing on the other side of the door, so he decided to call through the wood.

"Mr Black? It's Dr Henrik. Can you open the door, please?"

Silence greeted him once more, getting to the point that he wondered whether the phone call was all a big prank, that Pritchard was just getting his kicks by making him dance to his beat.

_Real funny, Black, making me come here on my day off._

He turned around and was just about to leave when he heard three different clicks and slides, and he revolved back to his original position when the door finally opened the smallest of margins, and he could just about see a golden eye, a patch of dishevelled black hair and ghostly white skin.

"Mr Black? You called me not long ago?"

The eye blinked twice.

"Have you kept your visit a secret?" came that voice, the monotone voice that intrigued him so much.

"Yes, is there a problem with that?"

"No."

The eye disappeared, but the door was not closed. Henrik took that to mean he was allowed entry but the 'patient' would not open the door  _for_  him, which did not surprise him in the least. Pritchard was not known for manners or politeness.

Pushing the door aside, the stench of cigarette smoke and alcohol hit his nose like a heavyweight boxer, and he coughed several times with the impact to his throat. The apartment was dark save for the few dim lamps dotted around the expensive looking living room, every single ounce of daylight kept away by heavy black curtains. His eyes traced around the room, and a feeling of distinct concern sat in his stomach as he saw the mess. Broken glass littered the floor, and sheets of paper were cast everywhere as if a hurricane had just stopped by to say  _'hi'_.

"Mr Black, this is not healthy, and I can tell you that without even looking at you."

His slightly sarcastic statement was answered with yet more silence, so Henrik looked around the living room once more to try and find his patient, and find him he did. Pritchard was slumped in one of the vintage leather armchairs facing his fire, staring mindlessly into the dancing flames, looking like hell. Henrik strode over to where his patient was sat, and began with the usual checks: his heart rate, responsiveness to light stimuli, even the movement of his eyes – though Pritchard did not bother looking away from the fire. The one thing that bemused him was that those golden eyes were void of all emotion, as though they were dead inside.

"Well, your vital signs check out so, despite the cigarettes and the alcohol, you seem fit and healthy. What seems to be the problem, Mr Black?"

"Everything is…different…" was the unhelpfully cryptic reply.

"Oh, in what way?" Henrik pushed, taking the chair nearest Pritchard and focusing his gaze upon the vacant man.

"Since I returned…from Black Towers, my disowning and firing…everything has been different. The air smells…poisonous. Food…tastes stale. The walls of my…apartment are…different. Skewed. Not right, and I keep hearing-"

He paused, frowning as though he was thinking of what to say, as though his train of thought had been derailed. Then, in Henrik's opinion, the strangest thing happened. Pritchard's face brightened as he shifted his vacant gaze over to the doctor and a smile crept across his thin lips. It wasn't malevolent, or malicious, but warm.

An actual  _smile_.

"How was your Christmas, doctor?"

Henrik was totally bewildered by the question. Since when did Pritchard Black, arrogant and self-obsessed ex-heir care about anyone else?

"Erm, it was…great actually. Mr Black, what's wrong? You seem…odd today."

The young man frowned, his eyes looking past the doctor as though there was something behind him. Henrik twisted his head backwards, but there was nothing there. A puzzled expression slipped the young doctor's features, the clues seeming to fall into place.

"What were we talking about?"

"You were going to say something about hearing…?"

Pritchard scowled, and shot to his feet. He towered over the doctor who was still sat on the chair, and leaned over him in an effort to appear dominant. Just like the last time he tried to assert superiority, Henrik remained unmoved.

"I am  _not_  hearing things!" he spat. Henrik slowly shook his head.

"I didn't say you were, Mr Black, I'm just-"

"You're with  _them_ , aren't you?! You're here on behalf of my ex-family, trying to make me think I'm going insane so they have a reason to disown me! To make it easier for them!"

Henrik leaned back into the chair and kept his face, and his voice, as calm and as passive as possible.

"Mr Black, I'm here because  _you_  called me. I'm not here to make you think anything you don't want to, I'm just here as your doctor. However, as a medical professional I must advise you to seek help immediately; this state you're living in, this belief that you're being victimized is unhealthy, and I would strongly suggest you accompany me so we can get to the-"

Pritchard held up a hand and turned his head to the left, as though listening to something in an earpiece. That was all Henrik needed to see. He had to get Pritchard some help.

"Mr Black, I believe you should come with me, so we can-"

He checked himself, knowing that he needed to encourage Pritchard to  _leave_  the apartment, not stay inside and remain distrustful of the outside world, which meant that he had to…play along.

"-prove your family wrong."

Pritchard's head whirled back to the doctor with a wide-eyed expression, and the smallest hint of a smile crept across his lips.

"Excellent idea, doctor! If you'll wait here, I'll go to my bedroom and get my clothes!"

And with that, he whirled around and strode to the other end of the living room, taking a left at the final doorway. Henrik stared after him for a moment, frowning as he pulled out a notepad and pencil from his inner coat pocket, and promptly scrawled something intelligible only to him.

_Patient seems to be suffering from hallucinations, occurring in sight, sound, smell and taste. Loses train of thought, suspected personality change. Recommend_

Henrik jerked upright with a worried expression as the sound of glass breaking from another room of the apartment rushed to his ears, the characteristic tinkling sending a jolt of unease through his stomach.

"Mr Black, are you alright?"

Silence greeted him once more save for the crackling of the fire to his left, and despite the cosy warmth of the dancing flames caressing his skin, the entire apartment seemed to feel a whole lot colder. Whether that was due to the actual temperature of the room, or how the hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end, he wasn't sure.

He rose from the chair and followed Pritchard's path towards the furthest door in the apartment, taking care to avoid the few shards of broken glass that had obviously been flung by a rage-induced impact.

There was a small voice in the back of Henrik's mind that had been pleading for him to leave since he walked through the front door, to abandon Pritchard to his strange behaviour, but the idealistic belief in healing the sick without judgement or preconception had overwhelmed that voice, telling him to keep walking.

If he knew what was going to happen a few minutes from now, he would have turned tail and ran as far away as he could.

He reached the doorway that Pritchard disappeared through and called once more, hearing nothing in return but the increasingly rapid  _thum-thum_  of his own heart and the tense breaths escaping from his mouth. He decided to keep going, to find Pritchard and maybe help him from this unhealthy situation he was in.

It was when he rounded the doorway and walked a few metres into the room that he was struck with exactly  _how_  unstable the young man was. The bedroom was old-fashioned, designed with the Victorian era in mind, with a huge mahogany four-poster bed in the middle of the opposite wall. The floor was dark, natural wood with Persian-style rugs dotted here and there, and the cabinets were a matching mahogany. What struck Henrik right in the gut and turned the unease into a furious anxiety was not the design of the bedroom itself, but the hundreds of pictures that were dotted around the ceiling, the walls, even around the mirror next to the mahogany wardrobe.

They were  _all_  of a young, attractive girl with a pearly smile, blonde hair in a French braid that was draped over her left shoulder, in various situations. Some were high-school photographs, others were college photographs, and a multitude of them were secret camera shots of her going about her day-to-day life.

The ones that really sent a chill down the doctor's spine had the young girl with another man, a slender yet masculine body in a black military jacket…the man's face either having been scratched off or replaced with a picture of Pritchard's.

In the corner of his eye, he became aware of the appearance of a figure and as he turned, he noticed Pritchard standing in the doorway to the en-suite bathroom, his arms held aggressively away from his sides, his head slightly dipped and a look of pure hate in his eyes. Henrik found he was unable to tear his gaze away from the ex-heir as, with a shaking hand he pointed to the photographs on the ceiling.

"I know of this woman…she's-"

He didn't finish his sentence, as Pritchard closed the distance between them in a few strides, gripped Henrik's jaw with his left hand and the back of his head with his right, and with a firm twist that sharply pulled the world from right to left…

…his neck snapped.

* * *

 

"Are you…dancing?"

Elsa and Jack had agreed that morning – or rather, he made it perfectly clear that he would  _not_  miss today for the world – that he would be joining her at work. Elsa was undoubtedly pleased…and a little relieved at this, as having to fulfil her role as CEO in addition to temporarily undertaking Jack's responsibilities yesterday had exhausted her.

Today, however, was a taste of things to come. Jack didn't have an office yet so he mainly operated from Elsa's, however he didn't really stay in it for long and chose to walk the corridors and mosey around each floor. She surmised that it must be a Pole thing, always on the move and working on his feet, but the logic that he was 'getting a feel' for the place was undeniable. Snowfield Towers would, of course, be his primary base of operations and he needed to get used to where everything was.

Naturally, Elsa chose to take on the duty of showing him around herself, and along the way she revelled in the idea that this is what it would be from then on. Snowfield and Overland, working together for a brighter future…or so the cliché goes. To say it gave her a warm buzz every time she thought about it was an understatement, and the little bounces of giddiness that would occasionally overcome Jack was a neon sign that he was thinking about it too.

Of course, their favourite parts of the day so far were the constant elevator trips, and sometimes they would intentionally go down to the first floor specifically to ascend to the fortieth. Why? Elevator make-outs, just like the impending session as they made their way to the elevator on the second floor.

"I'm not dancing. I'm strutting." Jack clarified, pretending to appear hoity-toity about it. Whichever it was, Jack's method of walking was decidedly more musical than the basic left-right system of movement.

"Okay," said Elsa, half-incredulous half-intensely amused, "why are you strutting?"

"Ah, now there's a question that I shall answer in two parts. Firstly, though Anna scared the shit out of me when I woke up, today has been awesome. Seriously, I'm amazed at what you've done, and I'm really,  _really_  looking forward to this evening."

Elsa blushed a little at his words, and couldn't help the small smile of pride from creeping across her lips.

"Secondly, I've got Stevie Wonder's  _Superstition_  in my head, and that's a damn fine song to strut to."

And to illustrate the point, he broke the rhythmic 'walking' by clapping his hands once and spinning on the balls of his feet, like a regular Justin Timberlake, and then resumed the shameless strutting. Elsa burst into giggles and had to cover her mouth to mask the wide smirk, prompting a mildly offended look from her boyfriend.

"What's so funny?"

"Well, if I thought that my boyfriend would be shimmying and dancing through my building, like Star-Lord at the start of  _Guardians of the Galaxy_ , I would have reconsidered the merger!" she teased, pausing to press the  _Call Elevator_  button on the wall to her right.

Jack instantly stopped, an invisible force yanking his eyebrows into his hair and his jaw to the ground, and then immediately adopted a petulant pout with a jutting of the chin to finish. Folding his arms across his chest, he stood there like a haughty, offended businessman.

" _Fine_." he mock-snapped, stiffening his posture.

"D'aww, is my wittle Jacky-boy sulking? I'm sowwy…" Elsa teased as she dipped her head and gave Jack the puppy-dog eyes. He took one glance and stiffened his spine once more, trying desperately to hide the smirk. With a  _'bing'_  the elevator doors opened to receive them, and he strode inside.

"Keep it up, no elevator make-outs for you." He shook his head in an attempt to appear immovable.

"Oh, but  _please_ …" Elsa teased, slowly sashaying as she passed through the open doors, pressing the button for the fortieth floor as she did. It had gotten to the point where her hands instinctively knew where to press, without needing her sight beforehand.

"Nope."

Elsa pushed home her advantage by stepping less than six inches away from Jack, a coy smile on her lips and a playful glimmer in her eyes. She slid her hands over the sides of his waistcoat and pressed her body against his, and feathered her fingertips over every inch of his waist that they could reach. Stopping when her lips were mere microns away from his, she felt his warm breath dance upon her skin and even felt his heart thump through their clothes.

"Come on…you know you can't resist me…" she murmured huskily.

Light-headedness dominated their minds and a searing heat spread from their chests into every inch of their bodies, the sensations of each other's touch proving to be so acute it was almost unbearable. Jack felt a part of himself begin to rise, and was vaguely aware of how his breathing was rapid and deep to the point that his head was now swimming, the knowledge that in this enclosed space Elsa seemed to be equally turned-on was intoxicating.

"You're right…"

With a reaction born of the speed of lightning itself he unfolded his arms and gripped Elsa's wrists. She gasped in surprise when he held them above her head, and couldn't help but let a quiet moan escape her lips when he turned her around and pressed her against the elevator wall, every inch of their bodies touching like an undeniable magnetic attraction. He held his lips a few millimetres away from hers, vetoing her pleading attempts to try and capture his mouth. She even quietly whimpered with the infernal teasing, which pleased Jack no end.

"…I can't."

And with that, he pressed his lips against hers in a passionate, bruising embrace, matching her movements perfectly as he swallowed every one of her muffled moans, feeling little to no resistance in her arms but a firmer pressure against his crotch as she hungrily ground against him and her tongue engaged in a vicious game of tag with his.

He started to lose interest in keeping her hands pinned to the wall – not that  _she_  had been – and released her wrists so his fingers could travel down the side of her chest…slowly, teasingly, feeling every inch of the soft material under his fingertips, so they could revel in the searing heat that radiated from her chest. She loosed an appreciative moan at the tender yet aggressive touch, and while her left hand snaked around the nape of his neck and held him there, her right hand shot down and gripped his butt, holding him closer against her – if that was possible.

Drunk on heat and physical need, the lovers cast aside all thoughts other than needing to feel every inch of each other. His hands slid down to her skirt and pinched the fabric, pulling the skirt higher and higher up her thighs with each passing second. Feeling the urge to really  _hear_  her, he released her lips and traced his mouth across her jawline to the back of her left ear, planting the occasional kiss along the way…and then as her breathless exhalations reached his ears, he travelled down to the crook of her neck and sucked  _hard._  She jumped in his hands with the sudden jolt of pleasure as a loud moan bounced around the walls of the elevator, and as the involuntary movement had encompassed her entire body it had forced her pelvis to firmly grind against his straining length, sending a lightning strike of near-orgasmic pleasure rushing from her crotch to meet the jolt in her neck.

"Oh fuck…" she whispered, and Jack took that as a hint to pull the skirt up to her hips and grind against her now-exposed underwear, eliciting a louder, sharper groan and an almost painful increase in the grip of his neck. All the while, she had been feeling the urge to unzip his trousers, pull her thong to the side and let him take her there and then…but, in a moment of clarity she opened her eyes and just about managed to catch sight of the floor level indicator.

_Goddammit._

Thirty-sixth, she noted with crushing disappointment. If women had the equivalent of blue-balls, she  _definitely_  felt it.

"Times like these… _fuck, right there…_ that I hate being a CEO…"

Jack made a muffled noise that sounded suspiciously like a  _'why'_  as he nibbled at her neck, one hand having moved up from her right hip and was now teasing her right nipple through her suit, blouse  _and_  bra. She almost lost the ability to speak with the heat burning inside her, but with every ounce of clear-minded effort she forced out the next sentences.

"…because…while there's nothing I want to do more than have you fuck me against this wall…we're almost at the…. _shit, Jack…_ fortieth floor, and if someone catches us… _oh God_ …we would be in… _big_ …trouble…"

To emphasise the point she uttered a disappointed whimper, especially when Jack ceased his ministrations with a throaty growl. Never before had she cursed the speed of the elevator so much, it was either achingly slow when she had somewhere to be, or too fast when she just wanted to bask in the electrifying sensation of an orgasm.

He pulled away and stared at her with an expression that danced between irritation and disappointment, but Elsa knew  _exactly_  how to soothe and relieve  _that_. Quickly sliding her skirt back down and re-adjusting the collar of her blouse to hide the brand new marks, she shot little looks of coyness at the now grumbling soon-to-be-co-CEO and, as she leaned forward to brush her lips against his ear and seductively whisper into his mind and libido, she made it all  _better._

"Besides," her words as soft as a dandelion clock as the elevator approached the fortieth floor, "I have plans for us tonight…and none of them involve clothes…"

Jack's trousers suddenly got a whole lot tighter.

* * *

 

It had to be the fiftieth time that Jack checked his pocket-watch, and Elsa was  _seriously_  considering stapling the fucker to his head.

Three-thirty, with half an hour until the Stock Exchange closed, and the board of directors were still reviewing the offers that Phil himself had brought over. They could both understand  _why_  the suits were so intent on picking apart every single letter, number and final calculation, but with the knowledge that today was the  _last_  day that they had a chance of preventing the hostile takeover, neither Elsa nor Jack could judge each other for the rising impatience and irritation in their stomachs.

The other reason they were having trouble retaining their tempers was that one of the directors was  _late._  Jack remembered her name as Jeanette, and she had been the most keen to question them when he brought the proposal last week. One empty seat…one untouched offer. Standing with their backs to the directors as they gazed out of the window at the opulent, attractive, picturesque scenery that was a snow-covered Arendelle City, Jack tried to curb the feeling of uncertainty in his chest while Elsa attempted to compartmentalise hers.

"I don't get it," he muttered under his breath, "this is a pretty big thing. You'd think Jeanette would be here."

Elsa said nothing, but the stiffening of her shoulders and the mildly loud exhalation of breath was all Jack needed to see. The director's tardiness was a source of worry for her too. For this to work everyone had to be on board – and sometimes all a shareholder or director needs to do to delay business of the board, or any decisions that are made…is to not turn up. Normally, that would require a large minority, but with the incredibly tenuous hold that Fractal Fashion had on its own stock with Black and Southernisle breathing down their necks, all it takes is one.

Today, on the raggedy edge between success and failure, a missing member was something they could ill afford.

Elsa still focused her gaze out into the city, stopping upon the New Year countdown globe in its heart, and Jack took a moment to glance around the room. The directors were still poring over the offer, some doing minor calculations on their phones. Phil, Hiccup and Merida were engaged in lively conversation, with the co-CEO leading the way with some stories about his time as a Marine. Anna and Kristoff had parked themselves behind the small desk to Jack's right, discussing something that was evidently extremely important…with the younger Snowfield occasionally bouncing in barely restrained glee.

All of them had taken time out from their day for the momentous event –  _'Wouldn't miss it for the world! I can pack later!'_ Anna had said not long after her revenge prank – which filled both of the CEOs with warm appreciation and pride…and now concern with the worry that it was all going up in smoke.

"You know," Elsa broke the quiet with a drastic subject change, "when I compared you to Star-Lord, it was meant to be a compliment."

Jack's gaze flicked back to her and his eyes practically shone with a boyish twinkle.

"Oh I knew," he said, a lopsided smirk cutting across his face, "I was just teasing you."

"And you do it so well."

Jack's smirk grew wider and took on a whole new level of smugness, and after a quick glance around the room to check he was not being observed he moved his mouth close to her ear, close enough to arouse yet far enough to remain professional.

"You ain't seen nothin' yet."

His seductive whisper sent shivers from her ears and down her spine, and with a roll of the eyes she sharply nudged him in the ribs.

"Great," she sarcastically groaned under her breath, "now I'm tense, worried  _and_  even more turned-on than before. Thanks."

"You're welcome. I aim to-"

He was interrupted quite comprehensively by the sudden bursting open of the meeting room door, and every head in the room turned with surprise to find a rather breathless-looking Jeanette stood, grasping her cell phone in her left hand and a wide-eyed expression of mild panic on her face.

"Am I too late?" she gasped, trying to calm the furious breathing with her right hand on her chest. Jack shook his head with an expression of mock-nonchalance, and made a show of checking his pocket-watch.

"No, no…you've still got….twenty minutes to go. I mean, if you  _really_  wanted to give us a heart-attack, you could come back in about, oh, ten minutes?"

He couldn't resist having a little – or rather large – acerbic dig at the board member, which prompted another sharp nudge from Elsa's elbow into the other side of his ribs for a matching pair. Merida sniggered quietly at the dry comment, which Elsa expected, but what puzzled her was that Jeanette did not retort or even shoot him a reproachful look.

"I apologise…for my tardiness," she said, finding it a little easier to speak  _and_  manage her breathing, "I was…delayed."

Elsa nodded politely and gestured with an open hand to the empty chair.

"That's quite alright, Jeanette. Please, have a seat. The offer is waiting for you."

She quickly acknowledged the CEO's suggestion and made her way over to the indicated chair, and Jack now joined Elsa in extreme perplexity when Jeanette rapidly scanned through the offer, nodded her agreement and announced her acceptance in the space of about fifteen seconds.

"Wait…shouldn't you actually  _read_  it?" he asked incredulously.

"I've read what I need to, Mr Overland. I accept."

Jack and Elsa cast surprised glances at each other. Jeanette was the one that seemed hardest to convince when he was last in this room, and was now the first person to agree to the offer. What deepened the surprise – and swelled a storm of hope inside the two CEOs – was that one by one, the rest of the board members followed suit and indicated their acceptance…including the man who voted against the merger a few days ago.

As per Elsa's instructional email, every member pulled out their cell phones and dialled their brokers in New York, relaying the intent to sell their shares to the brokers that Phil had commanded to watch the stock market. So far, everything was going to plan.

"Well…that was easy." Jack observed, curling a single eyebrow.

"Yes…" Elsa slowly nodded. She frowned as Jeanette, who was busy explaining to her own broker, gazed out of the window with an expression of discomfort and worry.

_Too easy._

* * *

 

"I hope you have good news, and know how to close a door behind you."

The Duke didn't even look up from the document he was reading as he spoke – somewhat tersely – to the technician that had entered his office. He hated the fact that the Southernisle building was still effectively cut off from the outside world as far as the internet and telephone was concerned, it slowed progress and made them incredibly vulnerable.

Still, Richard Black had indicated that he was flying back today, the events of Southernisle's crippling and Pritchard's ousting forcing him to reconsider staying in England for the few days he was intending to and bring his schedule forward. The Duke had noted with a little amusement that the shareholders of the Scottish whisky company were proving rather difficult to turn, so he had decided to return to the States in order to finish the acquisition of Fractal Fashion. That way, Southernisle's resources could then be turned towards DunBroch Whisky, making  _that_  acquisition a hell of a lot easier.

Babysitting one company while running his law firm would be a pain in the ass, and one that he was relieved to find he would not have to endure.

"Erm…good and bad, sir."

_Now_  the Duke looked up, and regarded the unfortunate man with an imperious stare.

"Clarify."

The technician gulped as he shut the door, and with a galvanising deep breath he prepared himself for the onslaught of reprimands.

"The good news is that we have the telephones back once more. I've managed to fix it so we can make national calls, but nothing international."

"And the bad?"

"Erm…the computers, the network, that's a  _lot_  harder to repair. Whatever program that was on the laptop has destroyed most of the operating system files on each computer. I'm going to have to order brand new software to fix the damage, repair it from the ground up."

"And the case files?"

"I couldn't say. They might be intact, they might not. Until I can fix the operating systems, I won't be able to give you an idea."

"How long will it take?"

"On my own? At least a month."

The Duke leaned back into his chair, lacing his fingers in a pyramid as he glared daggers at the technician – who shrank quite a bit under the hail of metaphorical blades. Finally, the Southernisle partner spoke with a monotone, emotionless voice that elicited _quite a bit_  of discomfort within the poor techie.

"Do what needs to be done, and enlist anyone you need to expedite the repairs. You're dismissed."

The techie nodded and thanked him for his time, and with his head bowed he scurried out of the room…and with an irritated growl, the Duke noted that he had left the door open. Slumping into the chair, he pinched his overly long nose with two fingers and rubbed circles into the bridge, silently cursing the mess that Pritchard Black had gotten his firm into.

A knock at the door snapped his eyes open, and with yet another glare he flicked his eyes to the newcomers – two of them. Now  _these_  people he was happy to see.

"Got a minute, boss?" Sideburns asked, keeping himself in a position to leave should the Duke decide that a minute was far too precious. The boss nodded, and made a  _'come in_ ' gesture with his hands. Taking the two seats directly opposite him, Sideburns and Yard Brush rested themselves against the leather and waited for the Duke to speak.

"Well? Anything to report?"

Yard Brush shuffled uncomfortably in his seat. He and his partner were never stationary; they always liked to be on the move – that way, if anyone is chasing them then they are always one step ahead.

"Something you'll find interesting. As we all know, Overland survived the…fire, and according to our source he is merging his company with Fractal Fashion."

The Duke leaned forward with his hands on the table, and his face took on an expression of deep interest and more than a little worry. If it succeeded, it would be yet another failure to report to Richard Black, and should the two companies merge then it could make it more difficult to acquire them. Southernisle, while a law firm that skirted with illegality, liked to remain as neutral as possible. A bigger company meant more resources to dedicate to handling the…details…of an acquisition, more police to bribe, more blackmail threats to manufacture, the list went on. The greater their task, the higher the risk of being  _caught_.

"When? When does this merger occur?"

"Today. Miss Snowfield has instructed the board members to sell their stock to Overland's company as close to the end of the trading day as possible."

The Duke's eyes narrowed and half a smirk appeared on his lips.

"Clever girl. The Stock Exchange is closed tomorrow and she's banking on that. If she can get the company's stock sold just before it closes and finalise the merger today, then there will be nothing for Richard to acquire on Wednesday, because Fractal Fashion will not exist. I underestimated her."

"There's a lot of that going around." Sideburns remarked dryly, and what would have been a reproachful glare from his boss was actually nod of acknowledgement. Checking the time on his gold Rolex watch, the Duke noted that it was now three-thirty.

"Agreed. Thank you for telling me, I have to place a call to Black's brokers in New York. We have a half-hour window to intercept this transition."

The two men nodded and rose from the chair, quickly leaving the Duke alone in his office. Reaching for his landline telephone, he flicked over the rolodex until he landed on the desired contact card, and dialled the New York telephone code. Agitatedly tapping his finger on the wood of his desk, he waited for the inevitable  _brrm brrm_  to cease.

Finally, a click followed by a sunny, feminine voice announced the connection, and with a barely concealed sigh of relief he greeted the woman on the other end of the call.

"Hello, Jessica, it's Julian Weselton here. Can you put me in contact with Richard's stockbrokers please? I have time-sensitive instructions for them."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for having to wait a while for this chapter, just going through some crap at the moment. Thanks to every one of you that kudos and/or comment or simply read, y'all are the reason CttT is where it is right now.
> 
> Four, maybe five chapters to go.


	37. The Madness of 'King' Pritchard

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: HERE BE SMUT. Well, the latter half of the chapter at least. 
> 
> I also switched the narrative writing style for the smut because I feel it lends itself better for the deeds.
> 
> So, consider yourselves warned - there be smut, and they be adventurous.

Pritchard didn't know how long he had been staring at the body on the floor of his bedroom, nor was he sure what had happened.

The last thing he remembered was Doctor Henrik advising him to seek help, to gain proof that he wasn't slowly losing his mind and to that end, he had retreated to the bedroom in order to gather some clothes in case it was an overnight thing. When he had entered his en-suite bathroom to collect his toiletries he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror, and then everything went black.

The next thing he knew, he was breathing heavily and feeling the searing heat of rage inside his chest, and was standing over the corpse of the man who had been his doctor, whose neck was twisted practically a hundred and eighty degrees. He didn't remember a thing.

He ran a hand down his face in an effort to grasp what was left of the out-of-control situation, and felt the unfamiliar nerves of panic shooting through his mind. He paced around the room, trying to work out what had happened and what  _would_  happen.

"Well,  _that_  escalated quickly."

The dry, feminine voice startled him and he whirled around, and with an uncomprehending widening of the eyes, he saw a woman kneeling over the body, her head cocked at an angle as though she was studying it, like the presence of a corpse was a curiosity rather than a source of concern. She wore a black corset which pressed her breasts into two perfect semicircles, black briefs with a matching garter belt above them, and near-black tights clipped to the belt. It wasn't until he recognised the signature braid trailing down her right shoulder, platinum blonde with streaks of black that he knew who it was.

"E-Elsa?"

Her head craned up to gaze at his surprised face, and she wore an expression of morbid amusement. Her lips were dark purple, her eyeliner a heavy black and her eyelashes flicking at the ends. This was  _not_  the Elsa Snowfield he remembered.

"I'm whoever you want me to be, honey." she crooned, biting her lip with a sultry expression. She rose to her feet and seductively walked towards him, one foot in front of the other making her hips sway from side to side.

"W-What…" he stammered, not understanding the situation. 'Elsa' giggled mirthlessly, tracing a solitary finger down his chest as she sashayed to his rear, that finger turning into an almost possessive feathering of her hand as it spread across his chest.

"See, I'm not  _really_  here. I'm your…ah…companion. I'm your guiding star, handsome."

Pritchard stiffened as the hand slid down over his stomach, and he could  _feel_  the tingles in his neck as her lips hovered an inch above the skin.

"What…what happened here?"

'Elsa' let out a coy giggle, and she cast a sidelong glance at the immobile body on the floor as her other hand slid up his chest and rested upon his right shoulder.

"That was you. He saw your secret, your… _desire_ …for me, and he had to die. I must admit, I was quite impressed with how swiftly you handled him."

"I…I killed him?"

"Oh yes, Pitch. You put your hands on his head and you...ah…showed him a new point of view."

"Pitch…who is Pitch?"

'Elsa' sniggered and whispered into his ear, her breath like a cold breeze on his ears. So very cold.

"You are, silly! Well, technically I am. Both of us, really. I was the one that protected you when you were a child, when that monster would beat you senseless. Whenever you wanted to hide, I was there for you. When something needed to be done, that was me guiding you. I've been with you for a long time."

Pritchard felt the hands move once more, and the intoxicatingly beautiful 'Elsa' teasingly walked in front of him, and traced a solitary finger along his hawkish jaw.

"We are Pitch."

Pritchard shook his head in disbelief, his eyes wide as he tried to make sense of what was happening. His doctor on the floor, the object of his obsession scantily clad and stood before him, implying that she wasn't just 'Elsa' but someone called Pitch.

"Marvellous. I'm going insane." he hissed with no small amount of sarcasm as he wiped a hand down his face, and slapped his own cheek a few times in attempt to 'wake up'. He was about to administer his fourth when a hand gripped his wrist, and try as he might he could not move it. Following the black-varnished nails down the naked, milky arm all the way to 'Elsa's' icy blue eyes, she stared at him with a mixture of pity and desire.

"Sanity is just a matter of perspective, darling. You're just starting to see the world for what it really is."

"And what is that?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Whatever  _you_  want it to be."

Pritchard tore his gaze from the woman and rested them once more upon the body, his mind ticking and working. Could it be true? He had heard it was possible, and his therapist had once mentioned the possibility of him developing a dissociative personality disorder during his ill-conceived sessions. Back then, Pritchard had scoffed at the idea, fiercely maintaining that he was fully in control of his faculties and that anything to the contrary was lies and deceit.

Now, he wasn't so sure. Ever since the catastrophe at Southernisle and his cutting off from the Black family, he had felt like things just weren't right, that sensation someone gets when they come home and their furniture has been moved six inches to the left. Everything  _looks_  the same, but they have the feeling that it's all wrong, that their entire world has shifted somehow, and they were left behind. That was what Pritchard was feeling, the sensation that reality had progressed beyond his control and there was nothing he could do about it.

'Elsa's' voice snapped him from the maelstrom of thoughts battling in his mind, and for a brief moment it centred him, brought an ephemeral calm.

"I would suggest that we...should be somewhere else. The last thing we need right now is for someone to catch us with a dead body on our bedroom floor."

Pritchard glanced once more at the late doctor and slowly nodded. Whatever she was – hallucination, alternate personality – she made sense…and that was exactly what he needed right now. Everything was going to hell, spiralling out of control, and he needed to be far away from it as possible.

"Besides," she added, "if you are caught, it would put a severe crimp in your plan, no?"

He pulled himself away from her grasp and shot her a questioning stare.

"And what plan is that?"

'Elsa' smiled a predatory curl of the lips. Reaching a hand to his face, she traced a finger from his temple down to his chin, and as she pressed her body against his, whispered into his ear.

"Let's face it; I'm just an illusion at this point. Don't you want the  _real_  thing?"

 

* * *

 

 

Elsa's eyes had not left the nervous board member since she had arrived. She knew that there would be an air of uncertainty in the room, a feeling of anxious anticipation for everyone concerned as they prepared to walk through a door into a brave new world.

Jack had decided to distract himself by chatting with Merida, Phil and Hiccup about something Elsa couldn't quite make out, though it was obviously amusing as even the burly co-CEO chuckled repeatedly. Hiccup led the conversation with his characteristic gestures which occasionally forced Merida and Jack, who were standing to his left and right respectively, to lean back every so often to avoid being smacked in the face.

Yet, Jeanette seemed to be lost in concerned thought. She stared at a fixed point on the glass meeting room table as she tapped her phone against the transparent surface, barely responding to any questions sent her way.

Unable to quell her curiosity any longer, Elsa caught Jack's eye and gestured with a sidelong glance at the silent board member. He nodded once, made an excuse to part from the conversation and quietly left the room just as she moved behind Jeanette and, making the woman jump out of her skin, asked her a question.

"Jeanette, please could I have a word with you in private?"

The startled woman visibly stiffened as she glanced at the CEO a few times, and with an almost relieved nod she rose from the chair and followed Elsa through the meeting room door. Jack was waiting for them, his back leaning against the corridor wall directly opposite and his arms folded across his chest. Elsa gestured to the door by his side, and darting over he held it open for them to enter the empty room.

Elsa had already fired off her question before he had even closed the door behind them.

"Is everything okay, Jeanette?"

The woman's breath hitched a little under Elsa's studious gaze, and her entire posture seemed to slump from tense and wound-up. Jack quietly took position right beside his co-CEO-to-be, and his arms instinctively returned to their previous position.

"The reason I was late was because…it was because two men came to visit me at my home."

Jack stiffened visibly and his eyes took on a slightly darker look. He spoke in a low, almost dangerous rumble which caused even Elsa to cast him a sidelong glance.

"What did they want?"

"I was next to sell my stock on Wednesday, Mr Overland. They came to ensure that it would still be the case. Naturally, given what we are attempting to accomplish, I lied and said I would still be adhering to their demands but…"

"But what?" Elsa prompted, and Jeanette shot her a look of pure worry.

"I am a poor liar, Miss Snowfield. They saw through my deception almost immediately, and asked what was really going on. I refused to tell them, and attempted to leave my home but they wouldn't let me. One of them produced a photograph of me having an affair, and told me that if I didn't tell them the truth, that my husband would get the photograph within the hour."

If it wasn't obvious to Jack and Elsa before, it was now.

"I'm so sorry; I told them everything. They know about the merger."

Jack closed his eyes and uttered a whisper of  _'shit…'_  while Elsa's head dipped low with a sigh of solemn realisation. Jeanette looked between them with barely controlled franticness, her hands wringing themselves to within an inch of their lives.

"That's why you instantly accepted the offer, you knew they would try to intercept it and wanted us to get there first?" Elsa asked after a time, once her stomach had slowed its churning. Jeanette nodded, her eyes beginning to shimmer.

"You must understand, I love my husband, I had no choice…I-"

"Yes you had," Jack cut her off with ill-concealed anger, "you could have chosen not to have the affair, then Southernisle would have nothing-"

" _Jack._ "

Elsa's stern voice rang out in the empty room, quiet but firm. Jack shot her an irritated glance, to which she coolly responded with her eyes to the board member who, after his terse remark, was now on the verge of tears.

"I'm sorry," he sighed, "I shouldn't have said that. Southernisle would have made something up anyway."

Elsa shot him another reproachful look before turning back to Jeanette, and with as sympathetic a smile and as soft a voice as she could muster, she spoke to the tortured woman.

"Thank you for telling us, Jeanette. If you wouldn't mind, I would like to have a word with Mr Overland alone."

Jeanette sniffed as she nodded, then quickly turned towards the door and left before anything else could be said. Elsa turned towards her boyfriend and regarded him with a stern expression.

"It isn't your place to lecture my board members."

Jack cast a sidelong glance, and exhaled deeply through his nose, as though he was forcing the anger out through his breath.

"I said I was sorry. Besides, now that they know, there's a real chance that there won't  _be_  a board left."

He growled something unintelligible and walked over to the nearest wall – thankfully made of a sturdy metal – and aimed a solid punch that rattled the nearby glass. The scene startled Elsa, who had seen Jack mildly annoyed or irritated but never angry.

" _Jack_." she said again, this time with a decidedly calmer,  _please-don't-do-that-again_  voice. He turned and glanced between her and his knuckles – red but thankfully blood-less – and uttered another deep sigh.

"Sorry…again…I just…I should have seen this coming."

Elsa walked over to her boyfriend and slid her fingers across his newly-reddened hand, and gave it a light squeeze. His grip was weak, a symptom of his uncertainty and thickly-veiled panic.

"There's nothing we can do about it now, I suppose. They've already made the calls."

Jack sighed, the exhalation heavy with solemnity, and ran his free hand through his snowy hair as he gently shook his head.

"No, there is  _one_  thing."

He caught her eyes, and though she was attempting to convey a sanguine, almost fatalist approach to the revelation, her eyes told the same story as his.

"We pray."

 

* * *

 

 

The Duke tapped his foot in increasing agitation as he waited for the woman known as Jessica to connect him. Apparently, the head stockbroker – the one that passes around Richard's orders – had taken himself off twenty minutes ago for a quick bite to eat at what could possibly be the  _worst_  time ever.

After multiple apologies from the woman, she finally – and with no small amount of relief – was happy to announce that she was connecting his call to the gentleman in question, and the Duke was unable to keep the curtness from his voice as he thanked her. He eyed the clock on his desk – three thirty-five. He wondered if they were too late.

" _Hello?"_

"Good afternoon, Alexander Brook, is it? My name is Julian Weselton, I'm the partner of Southernisle and Weselton…and, right now, I'm acting on Richard Black's behalf."

He audibly heard a few nervous coughs as the man cleared his throat, and had he been in New York he would have seen Mr Brook jerk bolt upright in his seat at the mere mention of the Black name.

" _Yes sir. W-what can I do for you?"_

"I have instructions for you to carry out. Fractal Fashion is about to embark on a merger with North Pole Toy Industries, and they are supposedly selling their stock within the next twenty five minutes. I need-"

The Duke stopped short as muffled voices reached his ears from the other side of his door. He couldn't make out any words, but they were spoken with such agitation and pseudo-panic that it instantly pushed the phone-call out of his mind.

" _Hello? What is it that you want us to do?"_

He didn't answer, as the voices grew clear enough for him to make out a few words, and he knew that whoever was in the corridor was on their way to his office.

"Excuse me! You can't go in there! Mr Weselton doesn't want to be disturbed! Excuse me!"

The door burst open, and the Duke's eyes widened with surprise and something approaching fear as two detectives, a man and a woman entered the room, followed by two uniformed State Police officers.

"W-What is this?"

The female detective strode towards him, easily circumventing the desk while the two police officers rested their hands on their firearms, while the male detective crossed his arms across his chest with a rather pleased expression on his face.

"You are under arrest, Mr Weselton." he spoke with a dry, Irish accent.

"On what charge?! I have done nothing wrong!" he said, the nervousness in his voice failing to hide the lie. The female officer roughly snatched the receiver away, pulled his hands behind his back and cuffed them together, while another woman pushed aside the receptionist as she entered the room – and that was when the Duke knew everything was going to hell.

Maleficent curled a predatory, victorious smile at him. Wearing her battle-hairstyle with the victory rolls, blood-red lipstick and a dark green suit, she looked every inch the cat among the proverbial pigeons.

"I beg to differ. Accessory to the first degree murders of Sarah and Sophie Overland, accessory to the first degree murder of Celeste Whitehall, accessory to the arson of Jackson Overland's home, accessory to the attempted murder of Jackson Overland, accessory to the attempted rape of Anna Snowfield, accessory to theft and…obstruction of justice."

The Duke barely heard the Miranda rights being read to him as he shot a scowl to his mortal nemesis, who didn't even bat an eye.

 

" _You have the right to remain silent."_

 

"You have no proof, those are just empty words!" he snapped, just barely below a shout.

"Oh, but we do…and I have a search warrant – signed by a judge, naturally – that allows the State Police access to your Records room. Who knows what we would find?"

The Duke paled to the colour of pure white as he gaped, his body language telling Maleficent everything she wanted to know and more.

 

" _Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law."_

 

"I mean, if we should happen to stumble upon further evidence of criminal deeds? My, my. What an  _awkward_  situation."

 

" _You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed to you."_

 

"My lawyers will have a field day with this! That is an unlawful warrant and this is an unlawful arrest!" he blustered, the pale white face replaced with a bright red.

"On the contrary, Mr Weselton. This arrest  _and_ this warrant are about as lawful as it gets. Make no mistake – the crimes of your firm and those of the Black corporation end  _here_."

 

" _Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?"_

 

The Duke opened and closed his mouth like a goldfish at least ten times, trying desperately to figure a way out, to weasel out of the corner that he was trapped in…and he knew from the fire in Maleficent's eyes, the knowledge that she wouldn't be here unless she had  _all_  of her ducks in a row told him that he had no hope – and when he next spoke, it was without the confidence, the imperiousness or the strength for which he had become famous within the company.

"…yes."

 

* * *

 

 

The mood within the Fractal Fashion board room was decidedly tenser than before Jeanette's revelation.

Rather than barely suppressed smiles and excited whispers, there was a notable air of worry and uncertainty – though not within the board members themselves. Upon their return to the room, Elsa had filled the gang in on the revelation and the possible consequences – along with the knowledge that right now, there was nothing they could do. She chose to keep the information from the rest of the board as they were jittery enough without Jeanette's revelation adding to it.

Jack had taken to pacing a short distance back and forth with a hand across his chest and the other supporting his chin while Elsa stood gazing out of the window. Hiccup was sat by the desk staring at a fixed, invisible point, while Merida had crossed her arms and rubbed her upper left arm in self-comfort.

Kristoff was stood with his hands wrapped around Anna's stomach, and Phil stood with his feet shoulder-length apart and his hands behind his back – seemingly a habit he retained from his military days.

Each one wore the same expression of frowning worry, the understanding that the next five minutes potentially held the worst news anyone could hope for…and the silence? It was deafening.

A silence that was ripped asunder by the guitar chords of Led Zeppelin's  _Kashmir_ , and almost as soon as the first notes rang out in the room all heads snapped to Jack who had frozen in place mid-stride. He and Elsa shared the same look of realisation and hope, and with one trembling hand he pulled his singing phone from his pocket, glanced between the caller ID and his girlfriend, took a deep breath and pressed the  _Answer_  icon.

"Yes?"

Elsa walked over to stand about eight inches in front of him, watching his reactions like a hawk. A smile, a sigh…even the rise or fall of a single eyebrow could put her mind at ease, or break her heart. Jack's face remained blank and expressionless as he listened, occasionally nodding slowly.

"Thank you."

He pocketed the phone once more and there was an audible hitching of breath around the room. Elsa's mouth was parted as the anticipation coursed through her body, and all eyes burned into the back and sides of Jack's skull. The silence was so great, even the dropping of a pin could sound like an explosion.

Jack took a deep breath and licked his lips, his expression blank and unreadable. Elsa watched his mouth intently…

…as the thin, pursed lips cracked into a wild grin.

"Welcome to the family."

Her jaw dropped and her face exploded into gleeful joy as cheers erupted around the room, including a rather loud  _"Fuck yeah!"_ from a certain Scot. Elsa gasped as she slowly nodded, less of an acknowledgement but more of a silent request for confirmation – which Jack was only too happy to oblige.

She threw her arms around him and squeezed tightly, not even bothering to hide the kisses that she planted on his cheek.

"It worked?" she whispered into his ear, and felt him nod into her shoulder.

"Oh yes."

"Oh my God…this is actually happening…" she whispered once more, feeling Jack stroke up and down her spine in support.

"Oh yes."

They both basked in the uplifting heat of elation that filled their entire beings, the sounds of resounding cheers echoing in their ears and minds, feeling the security of being in each other's arms. They didn't know  _how_  they beat Black to the punch, nor did they care.

Right now, they were immersed in the joy that everything had paid off, and that there was only one thing left to do.

A deep clearing of the throat made itself known, and the two CEOs parted the embrace to see Phil stood by their side, a knowing and wise smile hidden behind his beard and a brown leather briefcase in his hands. Elsa beamed widely as she watched him walk past them to the meeting room table, watched by an incredulous Jeanette – who was obviously expecting the worst. She glanced at Jack who instantly caught her eye, and nodded with the characteristic smirk.

_It's real._

Phil flicked the clasps and swiftly opened the briefcase, then pulled out a piece of paper along with an expensive-looking silver fountain pen. He placed the document directly in front of the CEO's chair, and first offered the pen to Jack – who shook his head and waved his hand in refusal.

"No, no. I think Miss Snowfield should have the honour of signing first."

Phil's beard hitched just that little bit more in a hidden grin, and he turned with the pen-hand extended towards Elsa, who almost hesitated. This was a huge thing for them – two signatures to create a brand new company.

Each board member stood with their hands in front of them, all with expressions of polite excitement. Hiccup, Anna, Kristoff and Merida all moved around the table and smiled expectantly at the now slightly-trembling soon-to-be-co-CEO who took a deep, galvanising breath.

"Thank you, Phil." she said, accepting the pen with a grateful nod.

She seated herself in the empty chair with the contract directly in front of her, and though she already knew what had been typed on the piece of paper, professionalism dictated that she read through it nonetheless. A pregnant silence sat in the room as all eyes watched her assimilate the document, and with a decisive singular nod she signed on the dotted line at the bottom left.

Claps echoed around the room, and Elsa felt her smile widen that bit more, feeling her heart thunder in her chest as she started to rise from the chair in order for Jack to take her place. He decided not to sit, however, choosing instead to rest his left arm on the back of Elsa's seat, leaned so close to her that she caught the scent of his aftershave – which didn't help the mild light-headedness or the beating of her heart – and picked up the pen to add his name to the document.

Elsa blushed fiercely as she heard Kristoff's deep tones loudly whisper  _"Bring out the rings!"_  followed by a yelp as Anna undoubtedly clapped him around the back of the head. Glancing at Jack, she noticed a deep red appear in his cheeks too, along with the twitching of his mouth only associated with a smirk.

She watched him scrawl his signature, which was decidedly less elegant than hers yet still way above doctor-level unintelligibility, and once he handed the pen back to Phil he straightened up, took a step back so Elsa had space to rise, and offered his hand.

"On behalf of the North Pole, soon to be Snowfield-Overland, I look forward to working with you, Miss Snowfield."

Elsa adopted a regal, polite smile as befitting a professional CEO and stood, grasping his hand tightly as she gazed into his cobalt eyes so full of promise and pride.

"And I look forward to working with you, Mr Overland."

They shook firmly, both lost in each other's eyes as cheers erupted around them once more. Jack was vaguely aware of Phil's huge form disappearing from his vision and pulling the door open, but then became acutely aware of him gesturing to three members of the company's catering staff. Three trolleys were pushed in, two of them sported dozens of champagne flutes and the final trolley carried four buckets – inside each one rested a bottle of chilled champagne surrounded by crushed ice. Jack glanced at Elsa with narrowed, amusedly suspicious eyes.

"Did you and Phil…?"

Elsa made a sound of  _'mmhm!'_  as she proudly nodded and gestured to the third trolley, an unspoken suggestion for him to have the honour of opening the first bottle. Jack felt a surge of nervousness shooting up his spine as he followed her to the champagne, and with a slightly trembling hand he pulled out the closest bottle. He was suddenly struck with the mischievous idea of shaking it and aiming the bottle at Elsa, but he knew that she would probably kill him – or have him sleep on the sofa for a year and  _then_  kill him.

So, he went for the safer option of aiming it towards the ceiling – the cork shot off with a satisfying  _pop_  as the froth slipped out of the rim, and he hastily charged the first two glasses that Elsa had picked up and held towards him. They both waited until every glass had been seen to and was in the hands of each occupant of the room…and then the worst thing that someone could  _possibly_  say to him was indeed said.

"Speech!" Hiccup's voice rang out above the happy murmurs in the room, which was then echoed by every mouth. Jack rolled his eyes and caught Elsa's gaze, and she wiggled her eyebrows as if to say  _"well, go on then!"._

"Alright, alright!" he sighed, raising a hand so he could speak, "Those of you here that know me, know that I'm no good with speeches – so I'll keep this short."

He held his glass into the air, a gesture mimicked by everyone else.

"Here's to a new year, a new company and a new future for Snowfield-Overland."

Murmurs of  _"hear, hear"_ mingled in the air…but as with any profound moment, something had to cheapen it.

" _That_  was the speech?" Anna questioned incredulously – but the impish smirk on her face betrayed her.

"It was dumb!" Hiccup grinned, following her train of thought.

"It was obvious!" Merida joined in, winking at Anna.

"It was pointless!" added Kristoff.

"It was…short…" finished Phil…and then with shared glances of gleeful pride that they  _all_  understood the movie reference…except the board members who were juggling quizzical expressions, and Elsa who wore a look of  _'You just had to go there, didn't you…'_

"…I loved it!"

Jack groaned and covered his face with his palm, knowing that  _one_  day his friends would be the death of him.

 

* * *

 

 

Had Richard Black looked out of the window at seven o'clock in the evening, he probably would have stayed on board.

The jet had landed not ten minutes before – an effortless, comfortable descent that he had come to expect from his pilot. Slowly taxiing off the runway towards his personal hangar, he was too buried in his work to notice the group of people waiting in the distance.

He unclipped his seatbelt once the jet had reached its final position to rest, and relied on his peripheral vision to guide his movement toward the hatch…still too focused on the documents in his hand. Muttering a quiet thanks to the stewardess after she lowered the hatch that doubled as the steps, he  _still_ kept his gaze firmly locked on the words as he descended them rather than the surrounding world – he expected the polite greeting and query as to how productive his trip was from his chauffeur, but what he got was decidedly different…and  _that_  caught his attention.

"Mr Richard Black?"

He looked up to find two people, a black-haired man and a blonde woman dressed in suits with State Police badges on lanyards.

"Yes, why? What is the meaning of this?"

His answer came in the form of the male officer circling around him. The papers were removed from his hand and passed to the blonde, and his arms were pulled behind his back and held in place.

"You are under arrest, Mr Black. You have the right…"

The rest of the Miranda warning fell on deaf ears as he spat out his fury and contempt at, as he saw it, the obvious breach of human rights…but when he was led towards a waiting police car, he caught a glimpse of a woman in a green suit, with diamond-cutting cheekbones and a victorious expression on her face.

That was when he realised that everything had gone to hell.

 

* * *

 

 

" _So what are you guys doing after work? You finish at seven, right? We're all going out on the town to bring the New Year in with style!"_

"… _with five hours to go?"_

" _Like I said: with style!"_

" _Well…Jack and I have a prior engagement…maybe we could meet up at the city centre at eleven?"_

" _What could you and Jack be doing for four hours…OH…that's fine! We'll see you then!"_

Elsa's conversation with Anna after the signing of the contract still bounced around in her mind, causing her to randomly giggle as she drove home in her Cadillac – though that was largely down to the fierce red on Anna's cheeks as she slowly understood Elsa's meaning, thinly veiled as it was.

Jack was sat in the passenger seat, occasionally casting glances her way whenever she giggled, and quietly snickered to himself when he saw the flare-up of crimson in Elsa's otherwise milky ears. Both of them knew  _exactly_  what was going to be happening as soon as they got through the front door, and the thought of it never failed to further stoke the already unbearable fires in their chests.

Neither of them spoke during the twenty minute journey back to Elsa's house…because words were insufficient for what was about to happen.

When they  _finally_  arrived, Elsa had barely opened the door before Jack's lips were on her neck, soft kisses tracing a delicate line from behind her right ear down to the collar of her jacket. A single, contented sigh escaped her mouth as she closed her eyes, revelling in the light tingles that erupted from each contact as they sent shivers down her spine.

"Couldn't wait, huh?" she whispered, enjoying the attentive kisses.

"Nope." Jack answered, elongating the 'n'. Elsa chuckled and offered more of her neck to him which he slowly but gratefully accepted – teasing her with light, gentle nibbles along the line he just made. He slid his arms around her stomach and held her close to him…this was not the almost feral passion that they partook when he arrived for the first time, but something deeper and richer.

She pulled his arms away from her just enough for her to turn on the spot, then as he pressed as much of his body against hers, trapping his arms around her so she couldn't escape – not that she  _wanted_  to – she laced her hands around the back of his head and pulled his lips to hers, inextricably capturing them. He swallowed her gentle moans as their mouths moved in unison, tongues playing tag with each other and tingling sensations spreading fiercely from the contact.

"You know," she whispered, pulling away just enough to make her voice heard, "your Queen has a royal command for you."

"Uh-huh? And what might that be, Your Majesty?" he muttered, directing his lips to her jaw, which then allowed her to whisper into his ear – the sensation of which never failed to drive him into a frenzy.

"I had better not be able to walk after this…"

Even in the dark, with the moon being the only source of light that streamed in through the open windows – and indeed, the perpetually open door – Elsa could easily tell that Jack had gone a bright red. Briefly, his grip on her had abated which allowed her to slink away, and with a teasing stroke of his face she winked then strode off to the bedroom. Jack watched her round the corner out of his sight, and then with a purposeful tap of his heel to close the door, a throbbing erection and a smirk, he muttered something that undoubtedly only he could hear before marching off after her.

"Challenge accepted, Your Majesty."

 

* * *

 

 

Her hands are already on him as soon as he steps through the bedroom door, doing away with any pretence of control or restraint. He presses his lips to hers in a fierce embrace, their lips moving in complete unison whilst tongues dance the waltz together. The lightest moans that escape her throat are swiftly swallowed by his, and each one drives him just that little bit further.

He breaks the kiss, which elicits the tiniest of whimpers – something he soon rectifies by directing his attention to the clean part of her neck, the side that so far had escaped his earlier ministrations. Tracing a convoluted line of kisses and nibbles, he feels the vibration of her gasps under his lips as she offers more of her skin to him…something he is glad to accept. Resting his hands on her hips, he sharply pulls her against him; shuddering as even through four separate items of clothing he can  _feel_  her grind against him, feel her core desperately try to touch him. The moans come a little louder now, and the fumbling of his waistcoat becomes more frantic. She wants what's under those clothes; she  _needs_  to feel his bare skin under her fingertips, his scars against her body.

That was another thing that Jack loved about Elsa, because in his mind he was damaged goods – no perfect cheese-grating abs or pectoral muscles that could dance the can-can on Youtube. Just scarred, imperfect Jackson Overland…and she loved him all the same.

They start to step slowly towards the bed, hands working involuntarily to free themselves of each other's clothing. His waistcoat is the first to go, followed closely by her jacket, and Jack takes this second to appease his ears' desire to hear another of her pleasured gasps, so he slides his cool hands under her blouse along her spine. She stiffens against him, letting loose a high-pitched moan against his left ear and grinds herself harder.

He unclips her bra under the blouse and slides his hand under the fabric, resting the still cool hands – which was odd, given the sheer heat radiating from her skin, or maybe that's just sexual heat – over the softness of her breasts and teases her nipples with his fingertips, tracing circles around her areolas and flicking the buds under his thumbs. Another whimper of pleasure escapes her lips, and with the knowledge that she won't be able to cope with the constant buzz coursing through her body, her hands – with a speed rivalling that of The Flash – undo the rest of his shirt and unclip his trousers with remarkable dexterity.

Jack pauses for a second and does a small double-take – in less than ten seconds he had gone from relatively fully-dressed to only in his boxers, one hell of a tent proudly standing there as testament to Elsa's allure. He glances back up and she has this coy smirk across her bitten lips, and  _she_  has the nerve to be  _slowly_  undoing her blouse with one hand while sliding out of her skirt with the other.

He watches as she turns her back on him and walks toward the bed, gently sashaying her hips in an unspoken gesture of  _"I've been waiting_ all _day for you to fuck me",_ and as her blouse drops to the floor with her bra not far behind, she seductively bends down to slide her skirt to the floor.

That's when he notices what lingerie she's wearing, and to say it makes the throbbing hardness in his boxers almost  _painful_  is an understatement. She's toting the exact same underwear that she wore when they first made love, with the addition of thigh-length tights clipped to a garter belt.

_Has she been planning this all day?_

With her bare back exposed to him she looks back with an almost cocky glint in her eye, and Jack realises – yes, she has.

Fantasy: made.

He surges forward and wraps her in his arms, pressing his length against her ass and trapping her chest in his arms, devoting more attention to the crook of her neck with his nibbles and near-enough bites to the sensitive parts of her skin. A pleasured yelp shoots out from her mouth with the sudden 'attack', and one hand reaches around her back and slides itself under the elastic of his boxers, curling itself around his length and rubbing it from base to tip, using the palm of her hand to stimulate the head – not that it needed further stimulation. Grunts and groans slip from his mouth from the gentle yet needing fondles, and with the knowledge that he's probably going to come  _very_  soon, he unwraps his arms from around her, turns her around and pushes her onto the bed.

There's no fear in her eyes as he does that, no glimmer of uncertainty, only trust and more than a little bit of lustful enjoyment. She slides up against the headboard with her legs slightly apart, and he climbs onto the mattress and crawls over her, keeping his body just above hers to tease the contact as he presses his lips to hers, revelling in the fierce contact.

She has no patience for teasing at this point as she arches her back to feel his body against hers, to feel his cool skin against her nipples and his cock against her clit. He begins a long line of kisses and licks down her collarbone, along the left side of her body and smiles to himself as he feels the light shudders under his tongue. Reaching the base of her left breast, he pays particular attention to heightening the sensations for her, knowing that the  _anticipation_  alone is sometimes enough to drive someone over the edge.

It wasn't until his kisses reached her navel that, with an understanding of his intent, she grasps his head with her hands and gently lifts his face to hers, and with a confused narrowing of the eyes he questions her motive. Why stop now, when he was just about to get to the good stuff?

"It occurred to me…" she says with a mildly breathless voice, "that the last time we did this, all things were not equal. So, in the interest of fair… _play_ …"

Jack's world suddenly goes topsy-turvy as her hand pushes him over onto his back. Where once his eyes drank in her perfect form on the bed, now they stare at her as she mounts him, eating him alive with hungry kisses along his jaw and throat, and with a blissful shiver down his spine she whispers into his ear.

" _My_  turn."

She dismounts and kneels to the side of him, pressing agonisingly slow touches against his chest with her lips, and he's  _vaguely_  aware of one hand sliding down his hip and invading his boxer shorts…but she's not jerking him off, she's  _freeing_  him. He feels the cool evening air nip at his length for all of a few seconds before an all-encompassing wet warmth envelops him, and with his eyes clamped shut to endure the huge surge of pleasure he realises exactly what she meant.

"O-okay…yes…equality is good…" he  _just_  about manages, melting into the searing heat and velvety smoothness of her mouth, feeling his consciousness hold its hands up and go  _"welp, that's it for me. Bye!"_  as she bobs up and down. In a moment of  _exceptionally_  brief clarity as his body completely loses itself, he notices that his hands are starting to flail about for something to do.

So he sets them a task.

Lifting Elsa's entire lower half over him, he feels the vibrations of a surprised yelp along his length which both amuses and sends a flash of intense electricity through him, heightened when she partially loses her balance and flops down against his body. It's almost like a magnetic attraction that sears them both to the muscle at the complete bodily contact.

"Jack," she gasps, "what are you… _oh…_ "

Her answer comes in the form of his fingers nimbly lacing themselves around her underwear and sliding them, albeit mildly ungracefully and a little clumsily, down towards her calves and his mouth instantly latching itself onto her core, his arms gripping her thighs close to his head so she can't move away – not that she wants to, at this point – while his tongue laps and his lips kiss at her bud. He can feel her muffled moans against his length as she involuntarily grinds against his mouth, hearing her sounds of pleasure rush from her throat only to be halted by the part of his body that she so lovingly and hungrily tends to with her ministrations.

It isn't long before she's starting to land on Runway Orgasm, as the jerking of her pelvis against his chin along with the bobbing becomes less controlled and more frantic, and with a smirk against her folds he relishes the thought that this is the side of Elsa only  _he_  gets to see, where she opens herself fully to him and  _only_  him.

To say it makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the world is the understatement of the century.

She gives up on trying to please him further as the moans and whines come faster and louder, finding that having something constantly touching the back of her throat kind of impedes one's ability to breathe and release the sounds of passion, which Jack is partly thankful for as he had no idea if he would be able to last any longer with that glorious velvety softness sucking away.

He feels her hips try to attempt a paradox, bucking  _away_  from his mouth at the same time as  _into_  it, and he knows that she is about to explode into the first orgasm of the night – that, and the ever increasing shuddering of her body combined with the higher pitch of her voice…and with an barely suppressed squeal she utters his name to the room, her eyes screwed shut as the storm inside reaches its apex.

"You know… _ah, fuck…_ you…where did you _…oh my God…_ learn  _that_?" she gasps, the dizzying rush stealing her breath.

"When you spend a lot of time on your own, you tend to…pick up a few things…" he teases, a cryptic tone to his voice. Elsa turns back and fixes him with a stare that is split three ways between impressed, unsurprised and downright turned-on.

There's a hungry glint in her eye that governs her next actions, and Jack wonders for a second precisely who is the closet pervert in the relationship – but that thought goes  _right_  out of the window along with all semblance of cognitive function when she crawls further down his body, voluntarily or involuntarily – he's not sure which – sliding her entire body across his chest towards its destination…and with a barely controlled throbbing of sheer ecstasy he sees that she's now sat above his length and is slowly – but surely – lowering herself onto it, her back and ass facing him in a reverse of the last time she rode him senseless.

"I don't… _oh, fucking hell…_ don't-AH-remember…you being this…big… _oh, this feels so good…"_

Jack is vaguely aware of the surprised compliment as his head swims in total helplessness, all brain functions holding up a white flag in surrender, and he  _thinks_  he manages to utter a reply.

"…that... _Jeeeeesus Christ…._ or you've gotten… _holy shit…_ tighter…"

He  _knows_  she's blushing fiercely right now, probably due to the light slap on his thigh, but with an inevitability rivalling that of the rising and setting of the sun, she eventually slides down onto him, every inch swallowed whole by her core. A solid, high-pitched whimper rushes forth from her lips as she feels him fill her completely, a new angle found inside her reaching places she didn't know were there.

At this point, Jack has to  _really_  concentrate to not lose himself inside her right this point, because he has a job to do. She wants to be rendered pleasurably immobile, and what the Queen wants, the Queen gets. He summons every single non-sexual thing he can think of into what's left of his mind, not worrying about the usual effect it would have on his stiffness – the constricted moist heat is seeing to  _that_  – and reaches his hands out to her, splaying his fingers out over her shoulders and slowly stroking her perfect back from shoulder-blade to ass and back up. She arches her spine against him, the shivering sensation of his unusually cool hands mingling with the inferno building once more in her core. She knew about alternate temperatures and how they can heighten pleasure, but this was  _so, so_  much more intense. She wonders – albeit briefly, in a lightning-addled mind – if that's less to do with the biological perks, or the fact that it's  _him_  doing it…and her body speaks to her of its need to move, to feel him slide inside her and she has her answer.

She loves him more than life itself, and he would burn the world for her.

Her hips begin to move, slowly at first so as to not come right there and then – the sensations were so strong, so uncontrollable – and she feels him gently match her movements, responding to the involuntary tightening of her sex around him. Her moans come free and easy, and she remembers that no-one is in the house, so she can gasp, moan, squeal and scream all she wants and not have to cover her mouth like she would have done in the elevator…and  _boy_  does she moan. She loses control of her bodily movements as the journey to heaven goes on autopilot, and she gives up trying. Her pelvis bucks against him with increasing vigour and possessiveness, his hands now firmly resting on her butt-cheeks and squeezing, kneading, playing. Her hands grip his thighs to cope with the dizzying high, and she is partly aware of her nails dragging along his skin.

It's not until she feels his legs suddenly cross, his chest press against her spine, his lips and teeth on her right shoulder and his hands splay out over her breasts, gently yet firmly caressing her erect nipples that she knows she is about to come  _again_  – and she finds a new facet to Jack that she's not sure is a good thing or not…when it comes to orgasms, he's a sadist. Her hips buck fiercely and furiously against him, feeling him constantly tap that magic spot in addition to filling her, and as she falls off the edge into the thunderstorm he…keeps…going. While her body jerks and shudders, while she shouts his name and reaches around to his back to add a few more nail-marks, while her head twists to capture her lips with his at the same time as she almost pleads  _"fuck me!"_ , he keeps the rhythm going, keeps the pleasure train running and she falls over the edge again, and again, and again, in some kind of perversely sexual  _Groundhog Day_.

Multiples, the holy grail of orgasms and she just had them, screaming her lover's name with each one.

She feels the last explosion inside her and her body's shuddering start to even out, and with a thin layer of sweat kissing her skin, and the last of the utters leaving her lips, he slides out from under her and she collapses forward onto her arms, her head hanging down as she surfs the maelstrom of pleasure coursing through her entire being.

"Fuck…that…was… _intense…_ " she gasps out, her world black as her eyes are clamped shut. Her body still twitches with the aftershocks, which are  _then_  intensified when she feels Jack's hand on her right hip, holding her firmly and – with a sound that starts as a moan and ends in a squeal – slides himself right back into her, a grunting of her name to garnish. She wonders if she could take any more, but when he starts to move inside her, both of his hands firmly holding her hips and occasionally pulling her back as he thrusts forward…

… _maybe just one more._

The sounds escaping from their mouths are downright inhuman, growls and squeals, utterances of each other's names, liberal curses and compliments of each other's skin, beauty or anatomy that border on perverted.

Out in the world, she is elegant, he is quirky. She is regal, he is focused. They are strong, they are powerful…but right now, they're outright  _possessed_.

She can hear his grunts become deeper and longer, his moans becoming louder and louder, mingling with the vocal heralding of her nth storm inside and she knows he is about to let himself go. She pleads with him to wait, to come at the same time as her, but he can't wait any longer. With a growl of her name that thrills her to the core, he fills her completely, letting himself loose inside her with one last, deep thrust – which luckily pushes her the last inch over the edge as she comes…and comes  _hard._

Roars of 'Elsa!' mix with screams of 'Jack!' in the room as they come together, both jerking and shuddering against each other, each minute movement causing extra flashes of pleasure that damn near render them unconscious. Her head is spinning with the breathlessness and the ridiculously strong orgasm and she collapses onto the bed with deep satisfaction, sucking in every breath like it's the only thing stopping her from spinning into hazy, warm darkness.

"That…" she manages, licking her lips and wetting her dry mouth so she can speak, "was…incredible…"

She can still feel him twitch inside her, and it forces out tiny little moans each time, and she basks in the searing heat and ecstatic thunder possessing her body. If making love is supposed to bring you close to heaven, she just high-fived God. His warm breath sends tingles along her back as he plants a line of kisses down her spine, and with a quiet whimper she feels him slide out, but enjoys the part of him that he left behind.

The bed dips beside her as he flops down, sweat glistening all over his body, his scars, and those mildly defined muscles that she so enjoys tracing her fingers over. He gazes at her, his breath calming down as his body relaxes from the sexual fury, and there's a look in his eyes that makes her feel shy and exposed, yet precious and beautiful. They lay like that for some time, just staring into each other's eyes, knowing that words alone can't describe the moment they're living in.

The moment where they are laid bare for each other, totally exposed but neither of them shrink away from what they see, but brings them closer together, and they wish that time outside this room could stop and they could live in this moment forever.

"Only the best for my Queen." he murmurs, stroking the side of her face with his left hand. She closes her eyes and melts into his touch, letting loose a satisfied purr.

"I love you, Jack."

Four words that make his heart dance.

"I love you, Elsa."

Four words that make hers sing.

He scoots over to her and holds his left arm out, and she snuggles her face against his chest, tightly entwining her body with his. Hearing his heart thump in her ears, she smiles widely and makes a sound of satisfaction. He strokes his hand along her now messy braid, revelling in the warmth that exists from her touch.

Except…don't they have somewhere to be?

"What time is it?" she murmurs into his chest, and Jack gives the wall a mildly incredulous look.

"I'm not exactly wearing a watch…"

She raps his back in revenge for his snarky comment, regretfully disassembles herself from him and with a less than graceful roll, scoots to the edge of the bed and  _attempts_  to stand. The keyword being  _attempt_ , as once she is upright she damn near falls over. Jack sniggers with an impossibly smug expression as she tries desperately to hold onto something, swaying all over the place like a naked, intoxicated angel.

"Woah…shit…forwards…must go forwards…you know, when I said about not being able to walk, I was being metaphorical!"

" _Now_  you tell me. Should I have gone easier on you?" he says, a smirk adorning his features. She shoots him a look split between a glare and a tease.

"I didn't say that-…"

Slowly and a little ungainly, she makes her way over to the suit jacket that holds her phone, and with an expression that radiates surprise and more than a little excitement as she brings it out of standby, she notices that there is still plenty of time between now and their rendezvous with the gang. Feeling her body start to recover a little, she doesn't bother to retrieve the dressing gown hanging on her door as she looks back at Jack, still laid on the bed and regarding her with a mildly curious expression.

"Well, we've got lots of time to kill…so, I'm going to take a shower…"

"Okay. I'll go in after you." he says, sliding off the bed to retrieve his clothes in preparation. He notes with a little bit of frustration that those are the only clothes he  _has_ , and he really… _really_  needs to buy some more. Maybe a few spare navy hoodies, just in case. Glancing up, he is surprised to see Elsa is still standing there like a naked, teasing example of beauty, and the sight reminds him that in his mind, she is still absolutely perfect – including that sultry expression she wears that makes his heart skip a beat, and a part of him begin to stiffen once more.

"No, Jack. You're coming  _with_  me."

Jack nearly falls over as he chases a chuckling Elsa into the bathroom.


	38. The Next Two Weeks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter features some time skips, and though I'm not a fan of them I figured it was necessary to be able to convey what I wanted without typing out literally every day in the life of Jelsa.
> 
> Apologies if that's jarring for some people.

_January 3_ _rd_ _, 06:10_

 

"Are you sure you have everything you need?"

It had to be the sixth time that Elsa had asked that question, but given the importance of the journey upon which her younger sister was about to embark, it was necessary. In the two days prior to now, Anna had been rushing her head off with preparation – packing, unpacking, repacking, re-unpacking then re-repacking her suitcase with all the indecisiveness of a choosy child in a candy shop. It had gotten to the point of insanity with how briefly her clothes rested in the suitcase before being taken out again, and to stop her little sister from having a meltdown, Elsa had brought a dose of much needed truth and sensibility to the matter –  _"Anna, you're flying to California…meaning, it's going to be hot. You don't need all these clothes; just buy some when you get there!"_

Both sisters had been startled by a loud cough from Jack, the involuntary reflex caused by Kristoff whispering something in his ear about how much he was looking forward to seeing Anna in a bikini.

As departing and arriving passengers strode to and fro, adding to the decidedly busy scene of Arendelle Airport, the younger Snowfield sister found it increasingly difficult to go through the checklist in her head. With her eyes to the sky as she mouthed the different items on the mental list, Jack turned to Kristoff.

"What're you gonna do?"

"I was only able to book a couple of weeks off work, but I'll be spending the time in California with her. She's gonna need someone to keep an eye on her and stop her from exploding when she gets to the studios…so, yeah."

"Think your assistant manager's up to the job?"

"Andy? Meh, if I come back to a smoking crater, then I guess not."

"What if you find out it's a permanent thing?" Jack asked, the million dollar question weighing on his mind.

"Elsa and I already talked about this, but if it comes to that, I'll just set up a new business over there or find another coffee house. Hey, maybe I can start an ice company over there. Hot place, they'll love it."

"You've really thought this through, haven't you?"

"Ayup. As far as I'm concerned, Anna's the best thing that ever happened to me, so I'm gonna be there every step of the way."

" _This is the boarding call for passengers flying to Bob Hope Airport, California. Please make your way to Gate Four. Passengers flying to Bob Hope Airport, Gate Four. Thank you."_

"That's me…" Anna smiled as the tannoy's bright feminine voice echoed around the busy airport.

"Please be careful, okay? Call me when you land, stay away from any bad areas, call at least once a day and if you can't, then at least text me, and if it's going to be a permanent thing then let me know, because I'm going to miss you, and-"

"Elsa," the younger sister spoke her name with a voice that would be firm, had she not been giggling at her elder's rambling, "I'll be fine. I'll call you every evening, and be prepared for me talking your ears off."

Without warning, Anna surged forward for a hug and squeezed her elder sister with a tightness that could cut circulation, an embrace returned with equal strength by Elsa. The rest of the group looked away at the scene, knowing that this was a private sisterly moment. To Elsa, it was the parting of the ways – for so long it had been the two of them against the world, relying on and supporting each other. Stood in the airport, the reality sinking in that her little sister that she had protected in high school, that saved her from a downward spiral in her teenage years was now leaving the nest, Elsa felt almost like a mother does when their child is old enough to leave home.

Both sisters quietly wept into each other's shoulders for some time, taking advantage of each free second they had together. For a short, understandably selfish time, Elsa didn't want her sister to go…

…but as the all-encompassing voice encouraged passengers to Gate Four, she pushed it down and gave her sister a happy kiss on the cheek, and as she waved goodbye to her sister and future brother-in-law as they made their way to the assigned gate, she gave the most joyful and proud beam that she had ever given.

When Anna disappeared from her sight, Elsa became aware of Jack's presence just behind her, close enough to let her know he was there, but far enough to not intrude on her moment.

"The house won't be the same without her…"

"I know."

"I'm going to miss her so much…"

"I know."

She whirled around and buried herself in Jack's arms, and he held her close while she quietly wept into his chest. Relief, joy, sadness, loneliness, and many more emotions poured out in those tears, and as Jack kissed her head and murmured sweet nothings, his heart ached with the knowledge that for him, he would never get to see  _his_  sister grow to flee the nest.

Although, he experienced it vicariously through Elsa, and that was good enough for him.

The thing about Anna is that while she can prepare and prepare and prepare, there was always  _one_  thing that she forgot to pack, or in the case of the text message Elsa received shortly after arriving at work – Jack had to take a slight detour to drop Merida and Hiccup off in the city – something that she forgot to mention.

As it turned out, Anna had managed to sneakily book the function room at the prestigious Arendelle Hotel, as another company had to pull out for an unexplained reason. How she did it in between packing and freaking out, Elsa could only guess, but somehow she did.

The only problem was the time-frame, and as Jack walked through the doors to her office to be met with a pair of hands gripping his waistcoat and an expression of panic, it was a problem that would soon be his, too.

"We have  _sixteen days_  to plan a ball!"

* * *

 

 _January 7_ _th_ _, 13:30_

 

"Excuse me, Miss Snowfield?"

Elsa looked up from her chicken Caesar salad – a working lunch – to find her assistant Helen stood in front of the desk casting odd looks at Jack who was stretched out on the luxurious sofa, scoffing a BLT sandwich and staring at the ceiling.

"What can I do for you, Helen?" she asked after quickly swallowing a mouthful of lettuce.

"The…er…" began Helen, but trailed off as she watched Jack crane his head up, cheeks as full as a hamster's while he gave them an expression of  _'why are you looking at me like that?'_.

"The department heads have finished their choices of what we should use for the Wynter Ball, and Phil emailed a list of toys for you and Mr Overland to choose."

Elsa's eyes widened a little with excitement as she quickly put her fork aside and accepted the pictures from her assistant, and after a quick leaf through each sheet of paper, found that she was initially pleased with the choices – at least, for now. Everything had to be perfect, so she would go through it at home with a fine toothcomb.

"Have any of the magazines responded to our calls?" she asked, her eyes lingering on a particular dress from the  _Wynter_  clothing line. It was a dark teal, full length dress with black velvet long sleeves, a gold-trimmed sweetheart bodice, crocus motifs with dark green filigree adoring the bottom of the dress and the bodice itself, along with turquoise gloves to finish. She felt an odd rush of possessiveness in a way, and at that moment decided that  _she_  was going to model that particular dress as the crown jewel of the collection.

" _Cosmopolitan_  and  _Flaunt_  are interested and are waiting for a formal invite, we've not heard from  _Seventeen_  yet, and  _Allure_  is the next on our list to call."

"What about  _Vogue?_ " Elsa asked, then with a sidelong glance at Jack rolled her eyes and finished, "That's not the Vogue I'm talking about, Mr Overland."

Jack, whose hands had been in the middle of doing an appallingly bad rendition of the iconic Madonna dance, huffed and continued with his sandwich.

"Oh!  _Vogue_  said they're definitely coming…I think the person I talked to said "with bells on", whatever that means."

Elsa breathed a sigh of relief – inviting the top fashion magazines would generate publicity for the new company and thereby increase interest in their clothing and therefore, much needed profit. Visibility was the order of the day for Snowfield-Overland; the quicker they made their name known in the market and created a buzz, the better. Jack and Phil had already been in contact with the leading toy store companies around the country, and remembering the 'problem solving' exercise that they took part in not long ago, he had even pushed the boat out and sent an email to  _Marvel Entertainment_ …though he was doubtful of their response.

"Excellent. Let's get the formal invitations printed, and I'll personally send emails to the leading fashion bloggers. I want the company to be  _so_  visible; the International Space Station will be able to see us."

Elsa slid the image of the dress from the stack of papers she was holding, and passed it over to her assistant.

"I'll have a look at the rest of these tonight, but I'm going to wear this one to the ball. Could you send this to the designers for me, please?"

"Oh, I  _love_  the Coronation Dress. I'll get right on it!" Helen said cheerfully, her voice and entire being full of enthusiasm as she quickly bustled out of the room, leaving the two CEOs in peace with their lunch. Narrowing her eyes, she pursed her lips in a half-smile as she watched Jack swing his legs from the sofa, clutching the scrunched-up empty sandwich wrapper and point himself in the direction of the trash basket by her desk.

"Is it always going to be like this with you?" she teased.

"Pretty much," he said nonchalantly, shrugging as he tossed the wrapper into the trash basket with all the skill of a novice basketball player, "though sometimes I pretend to be an adult."

Elsa snorted into a chuckle, watching the ball of paper bounce harmlessly off the rim and onto the floor.

"Nice. A for effort."

"Shaddap…" he groaned as he bent over to 'slam dunk' the paper into the basket, then stiffened upright with surprising speed as his phone vibrated in his trouser pocket. She watched with frowning curiosity as his thumb navigated to the message screen, and the curiosity only deepened when he instantly darted over to the remote control near the television.

"What's going on?" she asked as she rose from the desk and walked over to his side. For the first few seconds, Jack said nothing as he turned on the huge television and with a puzzled frown, hammered the  _skip channel_  button.

"Merida just messaged me, something about us needing to watch the news."

Eventually, the button mashing landed on the local television network, and Jack had to step back a little as the raven black hair, blood red lips and imperious face of District Attorney Jane 'Maleficent' Moors appeared on the screen, the iconic cheekbones threatening to slice through into the office.

"Merida wants me to see a scary lady?" Jack raised an incredulous eyebrow, casting a couple of sidelong glances at his girlfriend. He expected – sort of – a shrug or a rebuking comment, but what he didn't expect was Elsa's jaw to drop with disbelief.

"Jack…read the news ticker…" she murmured.

_Southernisle family, Julian Weselton and Richard Black indicted for crimes spanning a decade._

Jack shoved the volume up – this he  _needed_  to hear.

" _After a search of the records room within the Southernisle main offices last Monday, State Police unearthed staggering evidence of wrongdoing and criminal acts committed by the law firm as well as their – if you'll pardon the expression – partner in crime, Black Advertising Corporation. Following a further review of the evidence, the District Attorney's office will be prosecuting them to the full extent of the law."_

" _What about the actual murders, Miss Moors? Have you anything to say about that?"_

" _I have no comment at the moment regarding that, but rest assured there is a state-wide search underway."_

Elsa raised a hand to her mouth at the same time as Jack dropped the remote in total disbelief, the news completely and utterly astonishing them.

"This is too good to be true…" she whispered, and Jack numbly checked the news app on his phone for confirmation – which he received.

"It's true."

"Oh my God…it's over…we're free…"

Without warning, Elsa surged into Jack's arms and nearly knocked him off his feet with the surprise movement, whispering into his ears about how they never needed to worry about Black Advertising  _ever again_. Jack's return of her embrace was light but half-hearted, because something that Maleficent had said didn't sit well with him. Sure, Snowfield-Overland and all the other companies in the US – and even some in Europe – didn't need to panic about an acquisition anymore…

Elsa had been too deep in the moment to notice the distracted nature of how Jack held her, and in a way he was thankful for that. Her happiness and joyfulness was intoxicating and it was something that he desperately tried to hold on to and was loathed to puncture…

…because if he correctly understood the meaning of Maleficent's last sentence – whoever murdered his family, that woman in the photograph, and attempted to kill him was still out there.

* * *

 

 _January 8_ _th_ _, 08:45_

 

For the first time in a couple of decades, Kai Snowfield was actually bored.

Since the formal arrest and indictment of Richard Black, Julian Weselton and anyone else even peripherally connected to the crimes – which meant Maleficent was sending a message by prosecuting everything but the kitchen sink – he had enjoyed the freedom only given by being found innocent of a crime he didn't commit. Sure, it had only been just over a week since he was arrested and he had only spent a short time in jail, but it was an experience he was anxious to forget.

The boredom had struck when he had returned home, thinking that the familiarity of his house would soothe and comfort him. For a time it did, being able to rest in his favourite armchair, eat meals when he wanted to and wear his own clothes was something that he had missed…but at the same time he was at a loss for something to do. Television offered no stimulation; though the news of Fractal Fashion's union with North Pole was something he had been keeping track of since just after the New Year. Most of his books had already been read and the rest held little interest for him.

His nieces had kept in touch as much as possible, though as time went on the calls ended up becoming fewer and far between. Initially he had been disappointed and deflated at this, but when he had managed to catch a news report on the Snowfield-Overland merger along with the arson of Jackson Overland's apartment, he realised that though she would have wanted to call or visit, the sheer volume of work kept her at the office. He didn't blame her one bit.

No, he was bored because up until the twenty sixth of January, his life revolved around his job as CEO. Anything that wasn't completed in his office was taken home for him to finish, and though it mimicked his late brother's habits, it was a lifestyle that Kai was comfortable with. He had his nieces, and he had his job. He was happy.

Now, he had his nieces, and  _no_  job.

So, while he vacantly stared at reruns of  _Family Feud_ , occasionally scoffing at the utterly stupid answers that people under pressure can conceivably come up with, he decided that he wasn't quite ready to retire  _just_  yet.

He wondered if he could get a job with Snowfield-Overland.

* * *

 

"This had better be good, Detective Diaval. I'm about to consolidate the biggest case of my career, and I can ill afford interruptions."

The berated detective looked up from the pile of papers on his desk, and tried to suppress the rolling of his eyes at Maleficent's clipped, terse words. Though he had the greatest respect for the District Attorney, her imperious demeanour was often grating and sometimes mildly offensive. He chanced a glance at Aurora who was sat behind Maleficent, and fought hard to stifle a laugh when she pulled a childish face at the tall woman.

"Oh yeah, it's good. Well, not good per se, actually very bad, but interesting all the same."

"Well? Out with it."

"We gained access to the apartment of Pritchard Black yesterday," Aurora began, rising from the chair to stand near her partner, "and we found a body."

Maleficent frowned, this was news to her. She didn't like surprises.

"Whom?"

"Doctor Henrik Larsen. He's a junior doctor that has been regularly used by the Black family for any bumps and scrapes they have had. We found him on the bedroom floor doing one of the best impressions of an owl I have ever seen."

Maleficent's brow furrowed even more and she glanced at Diaval for an explanation, which she received in the form of him pretending to snap his own neck. The funny face he pulled didn't help.

"So…that's another count of murder we add to his charges. Is that it?" the D.A. shrugged.

"Nope." Diaval popped the 'p' as he shook his head, simultaneously opening his desk drawer and reaching for a stack of photocopies, Aurora continuing the briefing as he did so.

"As it turns out, Mr Black has quite the obsession with the CEO of Fractal…I mean, co-CEO of Snowfield-Overland, judging by the fact that  _these_  were all over his bedroom."

To emphasise the weight of the revelation, Diaval dropped the stack which spread all over his desk, covering every inch of the wooden surface with photocopied pictures. Maleficent's eyes widened just that little bit as she reached for one of them, lacing her fingers around Elsa Snowfield's high school picture, and Diaval's next sentence was spoken with a tone of foreboding.

"I've been doing this job long enough to know that obsessions like this don't have happy endings."

* * *

 

 _January 9_ _th_ _, 11:28_

 

The sample invitation was of  _excellent_  quality, and Elsa made a mental note to pay a little bit extra to the printing company for their expediency.

It was a cream coloured, textured paper with gold-embossed filigree and lettering, politely requesting the presence of ' _Their Business/Name Here'_  – obviously, that would change upon the finalisation of the guest list – at the  _Wynter Ball_  on the nineteenth of January.

She passed it to Jack who was sat on the edge of her desk scrolling through the toy selection on his phone, who whistled with appreciation as his fingers traced over the gold lines.

"Okay. We're through. I found a new love, and it's with this invitation."

Elsa laughed and smacked him on the shoulder, eliciting a playful snigger. Jack's heart fluttered a little at the sound of mirth; he knew he would never be able to get enough of it.

"Seriously. This is some sexy paper, right here."

"You have no argument from me on that. I'll have someone send the company the list of attendees. Hopefully…if luck is on our side, we'll have them printed and sent off at the end of the week."

Elsa sighed with a little tiredness as she leaned back into her chair, and with her elbows propped up on the armrests she laced her fingers under her nose in thought. Jack noticed the gesture and reached down to stroke her left leg.

"Something on your mind, snowflake?"

Glancing at his frowning expression, she sighed once more, smiled weakly and unlaced one of her hands to rest it upon his, appreciating the gesture of support and care.

"The catering situation. I haven't been able to call many of the companies on my list, and those I have been in contact with have all said that it's too short notice, especially with our lack of a concrete guest list."

"What about the hotel staff, won't they do it?" Jack asked as a single eyebrow rose. Elsa slowly shook her head, and Jack could easily tell the stress of organising a nigh-impromptu ball was getting to her. The usually immaculate braid was carrying a few flyaway hairs, and her normally sparkling eyes looked tired and empty.

"No. They said it has to be an outside company. Jack…if we don't find someone to cater for all these people…"

"Maybe I could help with that."

Both heads whipped around at the new voice in the room, and Elsa gasped with glee to see Kai's head poking out of the door, a slightly sunken look to his face but otherwise calm and happy. With lightning speed, she had jumped from her chair and rushed to embrace her uncle in a tight hug, and as he slowly walked towards them Jack could see in Kai's face how much the gesture meant to him.

"My God, it's so good to see you Uncle! When were you released?" she asked, still in the middle of hugging him.

"Er…about the same time as the District Attorney's press release. I guess they wanted to take advantage of the distraction, what with me being innocent of the crime, and all."

Elsa sharply pulled away, a look of shock and shame on her delicate face.

"Two  _days_  ago? Oh my God, I am  _so_ sorry! If I had known-" she began, but Kai held up a hand.

"I don't want you to worry about it. Prison is the last place I want you anywhere near, and I guessed that you would be rushed off your feet with this brand new company…" he said dismissively, winking at Jack who scratched the back of his head with a light blush.

"…and considering you now have the  _Wynter Ball_  to organise, I can see I was right."

"All the same…" she began, but trailed off when Kai squeezed her shoulders.

"I told you, don't worry about it. Anyway, what have I missed while I was on…holiday?" he asked. Elsa offered him the sofa while she sat beside him, and Jack pulled one of the chairs over so he could join in the conversation.

They told him everything; the discovery of the fate of Jack's parents, the realisation of Anna's dream, the ins-and-outs of the merger, the details concerning the Winter Apartments fire – Kai wore an expression of unrivalled pride when he heard of Elsa's bravery – and the trials and tribulations of the merger itself. Though he had not asked, he was filled in on all the plans they had for the company, projected sales and market trends along with long-term estimations, and after half an hour of storytelling there was nothing but pride and warmth in the ex-CEO's chest, something that was a welcome change.

"I can see that the company has been in good hands. I want you to know, Elsa; I never doubted your capabilities for a second," he smiled, taking her hands in his.

"I know, Uncle. You just wanted to make sure that it was something I really wanted to do."

"How is your relationship faring with your new roles?"

The question knocked both of the CEOs off balance, and for a moment they couldn't respond. They thought they had kept it relatively secret out of the workplace, and let's face it – the relationships that the public seem to be most interested in are those shared between high-profile celebrities…even if they do last only seventy two hours.

"How…how did you know?" she murmured, surprised by Kai's seemingly psychic powers. He rolled his eyes and gave her a look that screamed  _'are you kidding me?'_

"Elsa, it was obvious that the two of you were attracted to each other the moment that you were both in this office, all those days ago. I seem to recall a somewhat determined declaration of yours, Jack, not long after that."

Jack's eyes narrowed as he searched his memories for the remark to which Kai was referring, so he could decide on the appropriate level of red in his cheeks. Elsa cocked her head to the side with a small frown; a silent request for clarification.

"I asked you why you wanted to help, and I can remember your response as clear as day…because it told me that you would always be there for my niece, to protect and care for her.  _'I have my reasons, Kai. One of them is your niece'"_

The level of red in Jack's cheeks instantly went to  _'critical'_  and he averted his gaze from the amused – yet strangely, irritatingly smug – expression on Kai's face and the blushing smile on Elsa's.

"In…er…in answer to your question, Kai," the embarrassed CEO attempted, "we've been taking advice from my godfather on that. It…er…also helps that we work in the same building, too."

Kai cocked a half-smile and nodded. He knew what he wanted to.

"Good. Anyway, the reason I came here was to apply for a job in Snowfield-Overland. I have experience in business, I can work as part of a team, I-"

"Whichever job you want," Jack interrupted, "it's yours…except mine, of course."

Elsa stole a quick wink at Jack, before adding to it.

"Indeed. I should imagine Phil could use a right-hand man, especially now."

Jack rose his eyebrows in a manner that said  _'good thinking'_ , while Kai waved his hands as if to say  _'woah there, steady on!'_.

"Please, I would like to do this the old-fashioned way, from the ground up, with a résumé. There's no reason I should be paid any special dispensation."

"Not a problem, I'll organise an interview with Phil for as soon as he has a slot." Jack winked. Feeling that he had taken up enough of their time – misplaced as that feeling may have been – Kai rose from the sofa and shook Jack's hand before giving Elsa another hug.

"Thank you both, for this, and for keeping the company alive. Elsa, your father would be so proud of you."

"Thank you, Uncle." Elsa managed, a tell-tale wetness starting to appear in her eyes. Kai offered a wide smile and made towards the office door, but stopped just before he reached for the handle.

"Oh, and leave the catering problem to me. Oaken owes me a few favours; it's about time I called them in."

Lacing his fingers around the handle and pulling the door open, Kai swiftly exited the office leaving the two CEOs in peace. It didn't last, however, as in less than five minutes they heard another knock at the door followed by Agatha's head poking through.

"Excuse me, Miss Snowfield. Mr Overland. There's someone here who wishes to speak with you."

Elsa nodded and made a silent gesture for Agatha to let the visitor in, and within a few seconds they felt the rush of surprise as none other than District Attorney Maleficent walked into the room, clad in an emerald green suit. Jack wasn't going to lie, in the presence of two strong women he was feeling decidedly emasculated. Elsa, on the other hand, felt nothing but deep puzzlement. She wasn't expecting any visitors today, least of all the woman in charge of bringing down Black Advertising and Southernisle.

She quickly pushed down her confusion and pulled up the regal demeanour, walking forward with her hand outstretched toward the D.A, followed closely by Jack. Whatever this woman had to say, it must be important, and Elsa was all ears.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Moors. I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting a visit from you, especially with your undoubtedly heavy caseload." she opened the dialogue with politeness and diplomacy.

"Yes," Maleficent replied, returning her hands behind her back after shaking Jack's hand, "I apologise for the intrusion, but I feel it's warranted. I'm afraid I am the bearer of some rather disturbing news, and it concerns yourself and Mr Overland."

Jack frowned, an expression that drew dangerously close to a scowl as he folded his arms, while Elsa pushed down the sensation of ominous foreboding.

"What do you mean?" he asked, stiffening his spine.

"A search of Pritchard Black's apartment revealed that he seems to have a dangerous obsession with you, Miss Snowfield. We found dozens of photographs of you, some that were manipulated to have him with you…"

Elsa had to fight tooth and nail to stave off a sudden wave of nausea, which was not helped by the sensation of something crawling across her skin. She sensed Jack move closer towards her out of protectiveness, and in that moment was thankful for it.

"…and other photographs where a man, with whom you are sharing an intimate moment, has his face scratched off or replaced with Pritchard's own."

Jack felt his jaw instantly clench as an ill-suppressed growl escaped his throat, and in that moment he wanted to march out of that office, find Pritchard Black and beat the ever-living shit out of him.

"We believe," Maleficent continued the assault, heightening Jack's rage and deepening Elsa's nausea, "that Mr Black harbours such an obsession with Miss Snowfield, that he is very likely to attempt something in the near future."

"He can try." Jack snarled, and for a moment Maleficent raised a single eyebrow at the fire in his remark.

"Of course, though I have requested that the State Police assign you a protection detail between now and his arrest. Officers in plain clothes will remain nearby wherever you go, and a pair of officers will stand watch at your house."

"What if he doesn't attempt anything? Will I have to spend the rest of my life looking over my shoulder?" Elsa asked, unable to hide the deep feeling of worry from her voice. Maleficent shook her head, and Jack could swear he saw something resembling comfort and sympathy in her otherwise hard expression.

"No. We will catch him, and he will pay for his crimes."

Elsa assumed that the statement was intended to strengthen her or at the very least, make her feel better.

It didn't.

* * *

 

 _January 16_ _th_ _, 14:58_

 

Hiccup and Merida had, earlier in the week, offered to assist with the planning in any way they could. As most of the logistical and invitational needs had been taken care of by Jack and Elsa, all that was left was the planning of the actual ball. Elsa had requested that they be the eyes and ears in the function room, and armed with an exhaustive list of things that were an absolute  _must_  – for example, a catwalk runway to showcase the  _Wynter_  line along with several small podiums for the new toys.

Hiccup's engineering expertise had proved to be quite handy especially with the construction of the runway itself, and being the hands-on guy that he is, actually assisted too. It got to the point that the runway builders ended up deferring to his expertise rather than their team leader's, which tickled Merida no end.

The Scot came in handy, too. Though it was going to be a ball – and as they later found out, a masquerade-slash-fancy dress ball – Oaken _himself_  had visited the function room with a list of wines and nibbles ranging from luxury chocolates and cheeses to cured olives and nuts, with every form of red or white wine he could muster. While Hiccup was inspecting the lighting above the runway stage he could both see and hear the two of them conversing at a nearby table, and he had to stifle several sniggers at how  _brutally_  Merida would veto any suggestions.

" _Och, dark chocolate with Sauvignon-Blanc! Are ye mad!"_

As it turned out, Oaken could smell a kindred spirit in the comparatively diminutive Scot and was thus testing her abilities, and once he was satisfied with her skills they ended up flawlessly working together – which was fortunate, as Oaken had a reputation for literally throwing rowdy customers or those who had drunk a  _little_  too much out of his restaurant. The idea of him attempting to forcibly eject Merida was something that Hiccup was split between dreading and looking forward to.

" _So, we will have the Chèvre cheese with the Chenin Blanc, and the pecan nuts with the Pinot Noir, ja?"_

" _Aye, that'll about do it. Hopefully tha guests'll nae go crazy on tha free bar, else that'll ruin tha tastes."_

* * *

 

 _January 19_ _th_ _, 17:05_

 

Due to the fortuitous presence of the DunBroch and Berk heirs, construction of the runway had been completed ahead of schedule thereby allowing a few extra hours of rehearsals in the newly – and hastily – crafted clothes.

With less than two hours to go before the doors opened and all manner of guests arrived, both Elsa and Jack were absolutely  _buzzing_  with nervous anticipation. Oaken had commandeered a few of the hotel's members of staff along with some of his off-duty waiters and waitresses, all here with the incentive of pay from Snowfield-Overland's own pocket. Three long columns of chairs flanked either side of the runway for the initial first half an hour of clothing showcasing, which would later be moved for the ball itself. Masks would be provided outside the door – another thing that Kai had taken care of – and the theme of the evening was period dress, though in the invitation Elsa had stipulated that due to the short notice of the event, anyone that couldn't get hold of a dress or suit in time would not be judged.

'Goodie bags' would be provided for the CEOs of retail companies that would be attending, containing contact details for Snowfield-Overland along with pictorial samples of their extended catalogue of both clothing and toys.

"I am  _so_  nervous." Elsa muttered as she watched one of the models complete a flawless circuit of the runway for the fifteenth time. In the first few hours of rehearsals, everyone had stumbled at least once – and if you trip on a catwalk, everyone becomes that much more interested in whether you fall flat on your face than what you're actually wearing.

"Join the club." Jack agreed, checking his pocket watch for the fourth time. Elsa abruptly turned and grasped both of his hands in hers, and gazed into his eyes with barely-controlled anxiety.

"Okay, let's run through it one more time." she announced, and though Jack would ordinarily have rolled his eyes and groaned, on this occasion he couldn't bring himself to do so. Going through the night's itinerary was grounding, in a way.

"Right," he said, taking a deep breath, "at seven the doors open and everyone files in to take their seats. Seven-thirty, we do our speech."

"Are you sure you're up to that?" she asked, biting her lip.

"For tonight, I'll get over it. After the speech, our models come out and do their thing, and the last model to come out will be-"

"Me in the  _Coronation dress_ ," Elsa finished, taking a quick breath in through the nose and out of her mouth, "after which, the chairs will be taken away and the dance begins. People will have a chance to mingle and talk – hopefully, about our company – and the nibbles will be offered around that time. At ten o'clock there will be the final speech, and then I get to collapse in a heap and die."

Jack chuckled out a half-smile and draped his arm over Elsa's shoulders, pulling her closely and stealing a kiss on her temple.

"Hopefully not." he murmured against her skin, and then as his eyes roved over the function room, he caught sight of what he guessed to be a policeman in plain clothes hovering near the main doorway. He felt the flash of annoyance when he realised that if  _he_  could spot an officer of the law with such ease, Pritchard would definitely be able to. Elsa caught the deep sigh and quiet growl that escaped his throat, and wrapped an arm around his waist in support.

"I know what you're thinking, Jack, and I want you to stop worrying. If Pritchard thinks he can bring any harm to me, he's got another thing coming. He'd have to be insane to try anything during the ball."

She had a point, but in Jack's mind it didn't matter. Elsa was a strong woman, independent and powerful, but Jack took his role as her boyfriend and her  _white knight_  seriously. Whether it be on the city streets or in a packed function room, he knew he had to protect her…and if that meant he had to kill Pritchard Black?

So be it.

* * *

 

 _  
January 19_ _th_ _, 17:14_

 

Motels can be glorious things.

For some, they're a sneaky getaway for husbands or wives engaged in an illicit affair, for others they can be a brief stopover during a longer journey.

For Pritchard Black, the  _Kwik Stop Motel_  was a staging ground. Stood in front of the bathroom mirror, he recalled everything that had happened over the past two weeks, and how he had changed.

Having escaped from his apartment, he had spent the time between then and now staying in different motels across the state, praying that the police wouldn't find him. He didn't expect that they would; his 'guardian angel' had suggested that he withdraw as much cash as possible prior to going underground so the police wouldn't be able to trace any uses of his credit card. He had rented a cheap car and left his prized Mercedes at his apartment.

Every step of the way he was shadowed by 'Elsa' and over time he began to rely on the manifestation as his guiding star for what was to come.

On the seventh of January, however,  _everything_  changed.

In a moment of brief clarity, he had switched on the television and navigated the channels to see if there was anything interesting to watch – he had become quite the fan of  _Game of Thrones_  – and as though fate had stepped in…he managed to land on one of the local news networks.

It wasn't the image of the sharp-looking woman in front of the District Attorney's office that caused it to happen, but the news ticker below her face.

_Southernisle family, Julian Weselton and Richard Black indicted for crimes spanning a decade._

Before he knew it, he had been hammering away at the button that increased the volume, and he felt his whole world just fall away as he listened to the press release by Maleficent, talking about how both Black Advertising and Southernisle would be feeling the full weight of the United States' judicial system upon their shoulders…and more importantly, how there was a state-wide search for the murderers involved.

And in that moment, he had snapped. The world was now permanently different. No longer was he the scheming, impulsive, arrogant man that became a victim of circumstance. No longer was he the man that was now on the run from the law.

In that moment, he had ceased to be Pritchard Black, and fully embraced the persona that was Pitch Black.

Some might call it a 'psychotic break'.

Stood in front of the bathroom mirror with his hands either side of the sink as he stared at a face that he did not recognise he knew that his time was limited and, eventually, fate would call out his number…but it hadn't happened yet, and he counted that as a blessing.

"Now you see, handsome."

'Elsa's' seductive voice floated around his head like a dark summer breeze, and rather than question its validity, he embraced it. Nurtured it. Allowed it to encompass him. He ran his hands through his black locks, cut into uneven and ugly shapes by the less-than-graceful use of a pair of scissors, and he looked dishevelled and broken. But, he wasn't.

Taking an electric razor that he had bought only a few hours ago, he set about the task of making a disguise, of buying himself some time while he completed his self-assigned objective. He, or rather 'Elsa', knew that the police would be on the lookout for a man with a hawkish face and oily, medium-length black hair, not a bald man in glasses.

He credited that idea to  _Breaking Bad._

The buzzing of the razor filled his ears like a swarm of angry bees, the constant sound along with the air kissing his freshly shorn scalp making him feel like a new man, like he was somehow freeing himself of an old identity, of casting off a used skin like a snake. Had he not been so in the moment, he would have heard the opening and closing of his motel door and the heavy footsteps of intruders into his room.

"New look?"

The voice behind him startled him a little, he had to confess, but as his eyes darted up to the reflection of Sideburns who was currently laid on his bed with his hands behind his head, looking decidedly relaxed, he remembered that he had been expecting them for a while now. He had called them from the motel payphone three days ago, after all.

"No. New man." Pritchard replied, returning to his half-finished task.

"I take it you've been watching the news, too?" Yard-Brush asked, currently leaning on the bathroom doorway and inspecting his nails. A quick glance at both men told Pritchard that while they were attempting to remain cool and collected, their eyes betrayed concern and anxiety. With their protective company in tatters, the men were now hunted and on the run.

"I have."

"So what are you going to do about it? It's your screw up that's got us in this mess."

Pritchard smirked to himself as he shaved off the last of his hair, ignoring the tickling on his bare chest as the strands fell from his scalp and rested upon his skin. He didn't really care about these two men, so as far as he was concerned whatever happened to them was not his problem.

At least, not after the final proposal he had in mind for them. Brushing off the errant strands of hair from his chest, he turned to face them with a decidedly confident and almost predatory expression. Both Yard-Brush and Sideburns glanced at each other with raised eyebrows, this was a Pritchard Black that they had not seen before and weren't sure that they liked – not that they actually liked him in the first place.

"Inside my nightstand you'll find two checks, one each, valued at a million dollars."

Sideburns shot up like someone had lit a fire under his head, and with a speed that made Pritchard chuckle at the ill-concealed greediness, his hands yanked on the nightstand drawer and fished out a pair of envelopes. Tossing one to Yard-Brush, he uttered an appreciative whistle and an impressed nod. His cohort though, was unmoved.

"Worthless. Your bank accounts would have been frozen." he sneered, flicking the envelope away like it was nothing. The paper spun harmlessly in the air in a graceful dive, coming to rest under the motel room bed.

"Yes, they would have…the ones that they know about, of course. Those checks come from an account that I set up in my youth under an alias, should I ever need to change my identity."

"Your alias is 'Pitch Black'?" Sideburns raised an incredulous eyebrow.

"No. That's my name. In any case, those checks are valid, though I would cash them as soon as possible."

Yard-Brush eyed him with a suspicious frown, unwilling to retrieve the envelope that lay harmlessly on the floor. It was almost too good to be true. They knew Pritchard was a taker, not a giver.

"What's the catch?" he finally asked, folding his arms and focusing his gaze on the fugitive Black.

" _Quid pro quo, Clarice._  I have one final task for you." he smiled, a  _game, set, match_  smile that neither Sideburns nor Yard-Brush liked.

"What's to stop us from taking these checks and cashing them-"

"If I do not call the bank at ten o'clock tomorrow morning, those checks will be rendered null and void. Consider it an incentive."

Yard-Brush eyed him once more, debating the options. If they walked now, then chances were good that they would be able to escape the state and successfully go into hiding. On the other hand, if they accepted his offer, they would be able to escape the state, go into hiding  _and_  be a million dollars better off. Pritchard watched as Yard-Brush pushed himself from the doorway and walked over to his cohort, and smiled to himself as they began to discuss the proposal. He knew they were hooked, because otherwise they would have told him to go fuck himself and left the room.

"What's the job?" Sideburns finally asked, folding his arms as he awaited the answer. Pritchard felt the buzz of victory in his heart, predictable as it was.

"Snowfield-Overland is hosting a masquerade ball at Arendelle Hotel. I want you to get me in there."

Yard-Brush threw his hands into the air and uttered something that sounded suspiciously like  _"oh for fuck's sake"._

"This is about that Elsa girl isn't it? What  _is_  your obsession with her?!" he snapped, once he had finished displaying his exasperation. Pritchard merely chuckled and returned to the bathroom mirror to commence lathering some shaving cream over his head.

"Elsa Snowfield was always a bright, defiant, strong-willed young woman who caught my eye in high school. I was so used to being able to take what I wanted, for her to constantly refuse my advances then and in college, I should have been discouraged. However, with each rejection, my attraction to her only grew. She was so regal, so fearless, it was intoxicating."

Pritchard ran the hot faucet to wash the cream from his hands, and his eyes dropped from the slightly concerned expressions on the two men's faces to a news article in the local newspaper that rested on an empty space to the left of the sink  – an article about the  _Wynter Ball._

"Fearlessness," he chuckled, a hollow, malevolent sound, "I'll take  _that_  from her first."


	39. That Damn Ball, Part 1

Wincing a little, Jack tugged on the collar of his tuxedo like it was throttling him. His usual business attire was one thing, but wearing the specially-made dark blue suit was something else entirely. He had a suspicion that it was less to do with the actual collar, more what the wearing of it signified.

Stood in front of the full-length mirror situated to the left of the bedroom door – the Hotel had graciously offered the use of one of their elite rooms for the purposes of preparation – he had never felt as nervous in his life as he did in this moment.

Well…there would be  _one_  other situation, of course. Maybe two.

He was never really a perfectionist nor was he fastidious, just someone who kind of floated on the wind, accepting whatever came and dealt with it when it did. Staring anxiously at the bow tie – which, despite being straight enough that you could accurately use it as a pseudo-spirit level – he readjusted it several times before eventually realising that no matter how much he tweaked its position, the nerves would never go away.

This ball was everything to Snowfield-Overland. It was the moment where the company could rise and cement its position in the market as a bona-fide self-reliant company, or crash and burn as the investors or potential sales clients say  _"pfft, NOPE"_  and the fashion magazines and bloggers tear them apart.

He eventually gave up on the ever-moving goal post of attempting perfection, and as he glanced at the reflection of Elsa who was currently sat in front of the dressing table, taking far longer than her usual fifteen to thirty minutes of make-up application. He knew it was the same for her, and she had earlier said as much. Anything that he was feeling was undoubtedly increased tenfold in the young Snowfield CEO, because she had as much –  _if not more –_ riding on this as he did. Elsa  _was_ the person that strove for perfection after all.

It was pretty much silence between them at that point, because they were both far too nervous to speak, and anything that had needed to be said had already been said. They both knew that each other's presence was enough at this point in time; words were insufficient…except the quiet cursing that slipped out of her tender lips as, after completing the task of applying make-up, she made a start on her hair. Earlier she had decided that rather than the customary French braid for which she was becoming famous; she would wear her hair in a tight semi-braid bun. Initially, Jack had found the idea peculiar until she had explained with no small amount of finality that while the braid went well with the ice-blue dress she wore at Christmas, the Coronation Dress required something a little more…formal.

The problem was, her hair was being incredibly disobedient, and her task was not helped by the trembling of her fingers.

"Oh for…come on!" she hissed to herself as she lost control of her handful of hair, and with quite a few F-bombs muttered under her breath, she slumped back into her chair and gazed at herself with a defeated expression. So close, but so far.

"You know, hairstyles  _are_  my specialty."

Both heads whipped around at the voice from the bedroom doorway, and Jack jumped twice. The first time at the sudden appearance of a lilac dress-clad Rapunzel, and the second time at the unearthly Anna-esque squeal that shot out from Elsa's mouth.

"Rapunzel! You came!" she gasped, nearly knocking the chair over as she rushed to embrace the visitor. The brown-haired Corona heir uttered a quiet  _"oof"_  with the impact. Jack had wondered if, with the absence of Anna over the past two weeks, Elsa had subconsciously adopted some of her little sister's "isms" in a way of keeping her close.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world, El." she grinned, then turned to the tuxedoed boyfriend with a mildly stern yet happy expression.

"Right, you? Out. This time is hair and girl-talk time. No boys allowed. Don't worry, Eugene is in the living room, you won't be alone."

Jack opened his mouth to dispute it, but remembered that he was kind of outnumbered at this point, so with a defeated and subservient nod he shuffled out of the room to meet Eugene – who was looking decidedly chilled out as he sprawled himself over the cushy, cream leather sofa. His eyes snapped open upon hearing Jack's entrance, and with one of his cheeky smirks he rose to his feet and gave him the once-over.

"Well,  _someone's_  pulling out all the stops tonight." he teased. Jack gave him a quick up-and-down look with a mildly amused eyebrow. Wearing a long sleeved white shirt with a black buckled tunic and black trousers, it wasn't exactly like  _he_  had reined himself in either.

Of course, that could be down to Rapunzel.

"You're one to talk." Jack snarked back, gesturing at the tunic. Eugene merely shrugged with a  _'well, what can ya do'_  half smile.

"Let's face it, I  _rock_  this style. Anyway, I heard on the grapevine that you and Elsa make quite the team, huh? You've changed a lot since you nearly broke that Stabbington guy's jaw in Corona. You're actually…not so prickly anymore."

Silently, Jack conceded the point. He had changed so much since he moved to Arendelle City. He wouldn't even  _be_  in this situation if it wasn't for…

"What can I say;" he replied sagely, "the love of a good woman heals all."

"Amen to that," Eugene agreed wistfully, "I used to be quite the thief and womaniser before I met Punzie…"

A loud squeal erupted from the bedroom they had been barred from, and for a moment Jack looked a little worried as his head whipped to the source. He couldn't see either of the two ladies, and for a brief second he felt a flash of fear in his heart.

"…and looks like Elsa has just found out."

Jack's head whipped back to Eugene, his neck complaining with the two sudden movements in quick succession. The brown-haired man wore an expression that danced between blushing pride and dreading exasperation.

"Found out what?"

"I proposed to Punzie a week ago. We went to one of the biggest lakes in Corona, and I timed it so we'd be there for the annual lantern show. I mean, she was  _not_  happy that she wasn't going to be at the actual event, but…when the lanterns started flying over the lake, she just looked so…happy. So beautiful. I knew right then that it was time, so I got down on one knee-"

Jack was completely rapt with attention at this point, and he found himself subconsciously taking notes.

"-and basically said  _'Rapunzel, all these years I've been living it in the fast lane, never stopping to take in the moment. Never seeing things the way they were, just what I wanted them to be. Since I met you, it's all been different. You've shown me the beauty in the world, the joy of just slowing down and taking things easy. I love you so damn much, Rapunzel, and I was wondering if you would do me the absolute_ honour _of making me your husband, now and forever more."_

Eugene's eyes took on a wet look as he recalled the memory, and Jack could tell it would be one that he would hold dear to his heart for the rest of his life – especially since he had a sneaking suspicion that Eugene just quoted the proposal word for word.

"Thankfully she said yes, otherwise that would have been  _awkward_. Now, here we are – fiancés. I can tell you, I have  _never_  been happier."

Eugene clapped a hand on Jack's shoulder, sensing that he would be able to get away with it. Six weeks ago, Jack would've 'broken his smoulder'.

"Word of advice, my snow-haired friend. Location, location, location."

Jack was about to question the purpose of Eugene's 'advice' when Rapunzel's voice from behind them inexorably grabbed their attention, and the 'snow-haired friend' felt his jaw disconnect itself and initiate a HALO jump to the floor.

"Gentlemen, I present…"

With her platinum blonde, almost glowing hair woven in a tight bun, letting her bangs sit happy on her forehead, even still wearing a suit Elsa looked every inch the queen of his heart. Light purple eye shadow adorned her eyelids; her lips were a deep plum colour…

…and in a moment that made his brain pack its bags, wave a flag of surrender and vacate the premises never to be seen again, Jack could only  _imagine_  what she would look like come the time she wore the Coronation Dress.

"I take it from the completely vacant expressions that I nailed it, right?" Rapunzel stated the obvious. Both men could only weakly nod, though Eugene was the first to stir himself. Jack, meanwhile, was happy to sit in the sensation of complete awe, eliciting a flattered blush and a shy averting of the eyes from Elsa. The boys were only peripherally aware of Anna and Kristoff's entrance into the hotel room, and even less aware of the babbling that escaped her mouth before she had even said 'hi'.

"…and they said they're looking at Idina Menzel for the role of the elder sister, and Kristen Bell for the younger one and buuuuuuuuuh…"

Like Jack, Anna had completely disconnected with reality upon seeing her elder sister glammed up to perfection.

"…uuuuh thatdoesn'tmatterightnowbecauseOHMYGODElsayoulookgorgeous!" she gushed with a speed akin to the firing of an automatic rifle, which thankfully slowed down when she noticed Rapunzel.

"Punzie! You know, we should catch up. Let's go do that,  _right now_ , while you do  _my_  hair."

"Right now?" Rapunzel looked mildly disconcerted at the almost commanding tone to the younger Snowfield's voice.

"Right now."

Poor Rapunzel didn't have a chance to respond before Anna took her by the hand and whisked her into the bedroom, mouthing  _'tell you about it later'_  to her elder sister. Jack glanced at both Kristoff and Eugene, who were perfectly mimicking each other's exasperated face-palms.

"Where are the other two…Hiccup and Merida?" asked Elsa, craning her neck to see past the burly form of Kristoff, who was the one to reply…albeit muffled by his hand.

"Hiccup's doing some last minute checks of the room. Merida is-"

"I'm right here, laddie."

The inimitable tones of the Scot wafted around the room, and now Elsa joined Jack in awe. Clad in the stunning  _Bravery_  dress with her hair flowing freely around her shoulders, the emerald green combined with her flame-red locks gave her a statuesque yet fierce beauty. Jack had never seen this side of Merida before; she was too much of a tomboy in their youth, and the realisation sent a pang of guilt over all the years he had missed. There was one thing she was holding that looked a little out of place, though…

"Mer…why the bow and arrows?" he asked, gesturing at her right hand which held a yew recurve bow and pair of what looked like  _real_  arrows.

"Huh? Oh…tha invite said fancy dress, and I'm goin' as a warrior princess from tha era o' tribal Scotland!" she said proudly.

"Well, you know they won't allow weapons in the ball," Jack reminded, nudging Eugene before he was about to make a rude comment, "so you'll have to leave it at the hotel reception."

"Ach, yer kiddin'…" Merida groaned, looking positively distraught. Upon seeing Jack's grimace of  _'sorry!'_  and Elsa's nod of  _'it's true'_ , she huffed and rolled her eyes, muttering a terse  _"fine!"_

"Hey guys," Hiccup's voice rang out minutes later from the hotel room door, "woah, do I feel underdressed…"

Clad in a black suit with a rich red tie, Hiccup joined the rank of 'extremely dapper' which was currently held by the other three men in the room. Even Merida managed a comment about how suave he looked, with earned a mildly incredulous eyebrow from Jack.

"You look good, Hiccup!" Elsa smiled, and the complimented heir ran a hand through his chocolate locks in shyness.

"Thanks. Astrid sends her best and wishes you good luck. She wanted to be here, but it turns out we have a problem with the production line. Meaning, Ruffnut and Tuffnut got into another argument and Snotlout tried to step in."

"Sounds like the elves…" Jack muttered under his breath.

"Oh, that's a shame. I really wanted to meet her!" said Elsa, the air of disappointment strong in her voice. Hiccup offered a consolatory smile.

"I know, but she's coming for Anna's wedding. Anyway, I came to tell you that we've got fifteen minutes until show time."

By this point, Jack had sidled over to Elsa's side and laced his fingers with hers, and the squeezing that he had received upon Hiccup's announcement threatened to cut off the circulation to his digits.

* * *

 

"Jeez, looks like the only thing that's missing is the kitchen sink…" Jack groaned after poking his head through the door that led onto the stage-slash-catwalk.

He wasn't wrong. Every fashion magazine representative and blogger that Elsa had contacted sat in the front rows, each waiting patiently for the start of the evening's proceedings. Everyone else was either sat in the other two rows or standing near the edge of the room. He had managed to catch a glimpse of Hiccup, Eugene, Rapunzel, Merida and Anna in the second row to the right of the catwalk, with Kai, Kristoff and Phil stood a ways behind them near the wall. Hell, even  _Aster_  had accepted Jack's invitation, judging by the heavily dreadlocked man stood near the  _Olaf_  plush snowman, eyeing it with an expression approaching mild suspicion.

The collar around his neck seemed to get a whole lot tighter.

"Are you going to be okay?" Elsa's sweet voice reached his ears, and his head automatically turned towards her anxious face while she stood behind him. Like always, it set off a flutter in his heart and a little bit of self-reproachful admonishment in his mind. Of all the things for her to be concerned about, it was whether he could cope with the crowded room.

"I told you," he soothed, or at least attempted to, "for this, and for you, I'll get over it. I won't be offended if you want to do half of the speech, though."

Elsa let a nervous, slightly high pitched chuckle escape her curling lips, but as she laced her fingers around the lapels of his tuxedo and pulled him closer to her, he could easily tell she was as terrified of this as he was. Of course, to the casual observer it looked like she was ready and prepared for this, like a speech in front of some of the most important clients and bloggers in the country was nothing. Jack could easily see through it, much like she could see through him.

"I'm not sure I can do this…" she murmured, her forefingers and thumbs fidgeting agitatedly with his lapels as she stared fixedly at his shirt. Admittedly her nervousness wasn't helping his, but that wasn't the reason that he placed his left hand over her right, and curled his right fingers under her chin to gently lift her head to face him.

"Yes you can. Know why?"

"Why?" she murmured, feeling the butterflies of nerves in her stomach turn into butterflies of a different kind.

"'Cause – and this is going to sound  _so_  clichéd – you are Elsa Snowfield, Queen of Hearts. You dominate a room just by  _walking_  into it. You turn heads without even knowing it. You're one of the strongest women I know, and when you walk onto that stage wearing the Coronation Dress, you are going to  _own_  it. Everyone will see you for what you are, a woman who cares, a woman who loves, and a woman who _leads._ "

He inclined his head towards the doorway behind him, not once taking his eyes off her pools of blue which crinkled in an appreciative, loving smile.

"All that out there? That's nothing, 'cause all your friends and family are behind you, and I'll be right by your side all the way."

Elsa felt a breath involuntarily escape in something resembling a heartfelt sigh, and closing her eyes she quickly closed the distance between them and captured his lips with an appreciative, tender kiss.

"God, I love you so much."

"Who loves ya, baby!" said Jack with a playful voice, in his best impression of Kojak. In a strange moment, he kind of wished he had a lollipop for authenticity.

"Excuse me," came Helen's voice from behind Jack, clutching a clipboard against her chest, "they're ready."

Elsa took a deep breath to galvanise and centre her mind, and she could practically  _feel_  her strength returning. Naturally the nerves were still present, but with Jack at her side she felt she could fight a hurricane…and she could  _win_.

* * *

 

The first thing that hit the pair was the standing applause. In the split second prior to walking onto the stage, the function room had been awash with excited voices and hurried babbling, like a sea of white noise to the casual listener…but as soon as Elsa and Jack stepped through the open doorway onto the stage and elegantly made their way to the end of the catwalk where a microphone stood waiting, hands clapped against hands in an onslaught of applause – and an impulsive two-fingered whistle from Merida.

Jack was nearly blinded by the rapid-fire flashing of people taking pictures of the pair, and he had to resist the urge to hold his hand in front of his face. He dreaded what he would look like when the pictures found their way into the magazines, Elsa would be looking every inch the goddess he thought she was, whereas  _he_  would be looking like some tuxedoed squinting white-haired mole.

In between the sea of blinking white lights, he  _thought_  he could see a respectful nod from the Australian along with a knowing smirk, so whether or not it was a hallucination he returned the favour.

What had surprised him was that despite their attempts at keeping the relationship relatively secret, Elsa hadn't let go of his hand the entire walk, and seemed to have  _zero_  problems with it. If anything, the sole physical contact between them gave each other strength for what was to come.

The applause died down as the guests returned to their seats as did the camera flashes, which Jack was thankful for as his vision was now almost exclusively a hue of all the colours of the rainbow. The occasional blink of light still appeared, but at least he had a chance of being able to see – which was good, because a few seconds after reaching the microphone, Elsa laced her fingers together in front of her, and began to speak.

"Firstly, as the co-leader of Snowfield-Overland, I would like to take this moment to thank you all for coming tonight at such short notice. Believe me, when I learned that Mr Overland and I had sixteen days to plan this ball, I didn't think we could do it…and yet here we are. Needless to say, if we could do this, then future birthday parties will be a piece of cake…unless I get a cold!"

Mild chuckles floated around the room at Elsa's joke. Breaking the ice and settling them in. Elsa allowed herself a brief smile as she gazed over the packed room, and with a quiet but deep breath she continued.

"My father once taught me that when adversity strikes, we can let it break us or we can rise to overcome it. In the words of Shakespeare, truer words were never spoken. In the past six weeks, when Fractal Fashion was under threat of a takeover, we found ourselves against such adversity that we were convinced that our beloved company would fall…but through finding the right ally-"

Jack thought she gave him a sweet glance and a smile, but what hitched his breath was that another camera flash had caused a splodge of light in his vision, and it gave her a sort of ethereal halo. Sensing that it was his cue, especially with the momentary pause in Elsa's speech, he continued – and though his spine tingled with nerves at the sea of eyes that stared at him, he found the words came easily and without hesitation, despite the arid dryness of his throat.

"-we rose against the adversity and emerged as a stronger, unified company. Though I don't doubt that many of you have kept abreast of the news, I still believe that without the difficulty we faced, we would not be here. What you can see around you, and what you are about to witness on this very catwalk are the fruits of that adversity, and it is my firm hope that from this, we can continue to create elegant, beautiful clothing and timeless toys that people of all ages can enjoy."

"In closing," Elsa finished, "as I am sure you are all anxious to get started, Mr Overland and I would like to thank you for coming to our celebratory ball, and hope that you find it a memorable experience."

Applause exploded around the room including a couple of gleeful whistles from the gang, and after a few regal bows of her head, Elsa and Jack retreated back along the catwalk and through the door they had passed through not five minutes ago. It took her a few seconds, but the nerves finally abated enough to allow her a loud and deep exhalation, knowing that the first part was over.

"How was I?" she asked, lacing her fingers with Jack's once more and gently swinging their hands with the lingering anxiety.

"On a scale of one-to- _Gladiator_ , I'd put that speech around…maybe  _Return of the King."_

By now, Elsa had become used to Jack's irreverent humour and occasional references, and had started to go along with them, too…though she did allow herself a reprimanding  _whap_  on his arm.

"Aragorn's?"

"Nah. King Theoden's." he half-smiled, a genuine gesture.

"I'll take that. His was a good speech."

"Seriously though, I wouldn't have been able to get my words out much less pour my heart and soul into them if I didn't have your support, so I thought it was excellent."

Music started to radiate from the large speakers hung above the stage, and the two CEOs took it as a non-verbal signal that the show had begun. Elsa blinked a few times as well as stalled her breath, the realisation creeping in.

It was time for her to change into her new dress.

* * *

 

He had chosen the prime standing position with full view of the catwalk, so he wouldn't miss a thing – aside from the first two or three models, but he had seen that particular strut so often he could almost do it himself…which he didn't doubt that Merida would find highly entertaining.

Stood next to the dreadlocked Aster, who wore a rather uncharacteristically snazzy combination of dark blue trousers, white shirt and a lighter blue sweater over the top, Jack could see everything. Yet, he was getting impatient, because the woman he  _really_  wanted to watch, the woman who he was certain would own that catwalk was the last to appear. They were only halfway through, and Jack was getting restless.

"Mate, you're like a groom at the altar. Calm down."

Jack shot him an irritated glare.  _Calm down_  is one of those oft-used phrases that tend to have the opposite effect. Aster had a point, though. For the last ten minutes, Jack had been bouncing on the balls of his feet to try and assuage the rising agitation.

"I'm surprised you made it."

"I nearly didn't, bloody traffic and the fact that I live a hundred miles away. Anyway, there's a couple o' reasons I came." he said, a mild hint of a grumble to his voice.

"And they are…?"

"Well, firstly I wanted to see how all these posh folks are gonna react to seein' a guy with dreadlocks. No better way to test stereotypes."

"And the other?"

"Free food and booze."

Jack couldn't stop himself from snorting into laughter, earning a raised eyebrow and a half-smirk from the alternative Aussie. He knew for a fact that Aster was here for another, deeper reason but decided to let it slide – even though he was vastly different from the days he visited the tattoo parlour, he still tried to avoid the sage-like lectures when possible.

Of course, it wasn't that easy.

"It's not just excitement that's got you all jittery is it, mate?" Aster observed, jutting out an impressed chin as one of the models, wearing an elegant white knee-length dress with a black bolero, strode out towards the end of the catwalk and back again.

"I hate you." Jack snarked as he rolled his eyes.

"It's about that news report, I'm guessing? The stuff the scary woman said?"

Jack was silent, though the music and applause concealed the grinding of his teeth. Unfortunately, a quiet response is as equally telling to the observant Aussie as a verbose reply.

"Want my advice?" Aster asked, leaning his head to the left so only Jack would hear, and this time, the CEO was all ears.

"Yes."

"If it comes to it, do what needs to be done."

The words heavily sank into Jack's gut, yet had the strange effect of solidifying his resolve. In that moment, he was thankful for the understanding of his Australian friend.

"Wonder when…woah…" Aster trailed off, his face blank and his jaw falling to the floor. Jack glanced at the lack of speech from his friend, and followed his line of sight to the stage…

…as with all the splendour, elegance and magnificence in the world, Elsa Snowfield had just walked through the door wearing the Coronation Dress. She kept her gloved hands together in front adopting a queenly, regal pose, and her steps were slow and measured – which, in a moment of clarity, the stunned co-CEO noted that it was the walk of royalty. She kept her face focused and proud as she turned onto the catwalk, eliciting gasps and wild murmurs, along with a renewed assault of flashing camera lenses.

Jack thought she looked every inch the queen he always knew she was.

"…is that the chick you were talkin' about?" Aster gaped.

"…yeah…"

"You musta done somethin' world-changing in a past life, 'cause she is  _way_  outta your league, mate."

As Elsa turned at the end of the catwalk to retrace her steps, and flashed him a surreptitious wink, Jack could only agree.

* * *

 

It wasn't long after Elsa had completed her circuit that the hotel staff had cleared away the chairs and disassembled the catwalk – Hiccup had it built in such a way that it could be taken apart in sections and hidden under the main stage to create more space – so the ball could begin in earnest.

Naturally, as the peculiarity of human interaction in social gatherings dictates, most of the guests went off into groups to discuss what they had just seen, amongst other things. The fashion magazine representatives huddled together nearest the bar – which Jack thought was odd, surely the party wasn't  _that_  bad – while the CEOs of prospective client companies spoke in hushed voices that he couldn't really catch.

Everyone looked fairly content, though, so he took that as a win.

For the first five or ten minutes Elsa and Jack had been joined by Merida, Rapunzel, Eugene, Hiccup, Anna and Kristoff to chat about anything and everything, from the clothes show that they all witnessed to the younger Snowfield's first couple of weeks at Disney, and sensing that his Aussie friend seemed to be content to just quietly observe and watch the goings on, Jack had immediately yanked Aster from his prime place of self-imposed isolation and introduced him to the gang.

What followed was, in the young CEO's mind, hilarious. Rapunzel had immediately started to fangirl over his well-maintained blue-grey dreadlocks, unable to keep her fingers from lacing around them to test their strength, their softness, and to manipulate them into different styles – Jack's particular favourite were the dread-pigtails – while Anna took great interest in the tattoos that poked out above his shirt collar.

Poor Aster looked completely bemused and bewildered by all the attention as per Jack's plan, but what surprised the mischievous CEO was what Merida then murmured, her voice barely above a whisper so only he could hear it.

"Yer friend's pretty cute…"

"He's also taken." Jack explained, a mildly incredulous look dancing upon his features when Merida muttered a quiet  _'dammit…'_ , though Elsa found the situation highly amusing, which undoubtedly intensified his bewilderment…

…at least, until the background music changed, with the bouncy rhythm of Ed Sheeran's ' _Sing'_  giving way to a song that by comparison was slow, haunting and almost foreboding. Jack heard a quiet sigh escape Elsa's lips, and as he cast a sidelong glance towards her, he noticed that her eyes were closed with contentment, and she swayed almost indiscernibly to the husky voice that floated around the function room.

"What song is this?" he asked, cocking his head slightly to try and recognise the lyrics.

"' _Once Upon a Dream'_  by Lana Del Rey." Elsa succinctly answered, her eyes still closed in musical appreciation. Jack's lips curled into a half-smile that heralded the forming of an idea, he laced his left fingers with her right and almost dragged her to the dancefloor.

"What the…what are you doing?" she quietly hissed, completely taken off-guard by the surprise movement. Jack merely smirked at her as he placed his left hand on the small of her back and his right hand in her left, letting the posture answer her question, and with the dawn of recognition Elsa reciprocated by placing her right hand upon his shoulder, softly smiling into his eyes.

"There's no-one dancing, so I thought we'd be the first." Jack explained with a lopsided smirk, and Elsa felt her heart flutter just that little bit.

"Setting a trend, are we?" she winked, a dry edge to her teasing question.

"Well, that's what our company does, isn't it?" he retorted with equal humour, thus Elsa let another quiet laugh ring out between them.

The dance was slow and romantic. Elsa and Jack gently swayed this way and that, their eyes rarely leaving each other though he had to occasionally glance down at his feet to make sure he wasn't stepping on her coronation flats. Elsa didn't seem to mind; in fact as the song went on she was thoroughly enjoying the dreaminess of it all.

Apparently, it was infectious and they did indeed start a trend, as after about forty five seconds Anna and Rapunzel dragged their respective fiancés for a slow dance of their own…and Merida had even managed to cajole Aster into joining her.

"What?!" she hissed as they slowly passed by, "just 'cause he's taken doesnae mean he cannae dance with me!"

Jack snorted into laughter while Elsa had to fight very hard to stifle her own sniggers. The four couples – a platonic couple in the case of Aster and Merida – slowly carved their way across the dancefloor to the haunting melody, casting occasional winks at each other but thoroughly enjoying the experience, and as the song inexorably reached its finale, applause and cheers rang out across the room.

Needless to say, Jack's ears turned a bright red as he sheepishly waved and bowed, surprised at all the attention that their personal dance received.

"Shall we…shall we go and get a drink?" he murmured out of the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, I could do with some refreshment to be honest."

"Okay, the bar's over… _oof!"_

Jack's sentence was cut short as he felt the impact of someone roughly bumping into his left shoulder.

"Watch it!" he hissed, shooting a glare at the offending man, who muttered a terse and sneering  _"sorry, sir"_ as he kept his head bowed while he hurried away.

"What happened?" Elsa asked, frowning at the look of irascibility on Jack's features as he glared into the back of the man's skull.

"Over there. See that bald guy in glasses, wearing the hotel uniform? Bumped into me like I wasn't even here."

"Maybe he didn't see you? It is a rather stressful night for the hotel staff, too." she reasoned.

"Maybe. Anyway, let's get that drink."

* * *

 

While Jack waited for an order of white wine for Elsa and a soda for himself, he thought on how in such a short time his life had changed immeasurably as he gazed upon his girlfriend, currently deep in discussion with the representative from  _Vogue_  about plans for a spring-related clothing line that would feature emerald greens, soft pinks and flowers.

Many weeks ago, he had started his first day at Arendelle College with the intention of avoiding any and all interaction with the outside world. Choosing to replace wholesome conversation with acid remarks and terse greetings, designed to make sure people left him alone, he found it odd that despite his initial attempts to avoid Elsa, fate had the annoyingly relentless habit of putting them in the same place.

He wondered what would have happened that day if he had not stopped her fall, thereby starting the chain of events from the run-in at the music store, the offer of a lift and repair of her car, the eye-opening date and the relationship defining dance at the nightclub, all the way to the evening outside Nicholas' house at Christmas.

He remembered that had things gone differently, he would be six feet under and consigning Nicholas and Thiana to a lifetime of grief over another deceased godchild, the name of Overland a bitter memory.

Maybe it was he that kicked off the chain reaction, but it was Elsa that relentlessly pursued the date and gave him the cell phone number that saved his life. For that, and for her interest in him despite his attempts to throw her off, he was eternally grateful.

"If you stare for long enough, she might do a trick."

The gruff voice sharply jerked him out of his reverie, and for a few seconds Jack had to re-acclimatise to his surroundings having been so deep in thought. He also hadn't noticed how much his lips ached from the constant smiling. Glancing to the source of the voice, he became aware of the voluminous form of Phil and the shorter, decidedly thinner-in-comparison Kai, both dressed in smart cream tuxedoes.

"Shut up, Phil," he groaned, rolling his eyes before offering a respectful nod to Elsa's uncle, "Hey, Kai."

"I must say, you two really pulled it out of the bag. Phil and I have been wandering the room, and the atmosphere is remarkably pleasant."

Jack breathed an indiscernible sigh of relief at those words – with the rather impromptu nature of the ball and the all-hands-on-deck rush of preparation, both he and Elsa had been concerned as to the quality of the proceedings. Even the undercover police that wandered the ballroom seemed to be fairly appeased, which brought another question to Jack's mind – which was asked aloud before he even noticed.

"Have they seen  _him_?"

Phil slowly shook his head and exchanged a grim glance with the Snowfield uncle.

"No…" they answered in unison, though Phil leaned toward Jack with an expression of steely resolve, muttering something that only they could hear.

"…and even if he did, I brought an old friend from my days in the Corps."

Jack frowned with lack of understanding, and after a quick eye roll Phil signalled with a hurried glance towards his tuxedo jacket, where he held the left part open just enough to reveal…

" _You brought a fucking pistol to the ball?!"_  Jack hissed through gritted teeth.

"Jack…though the guy is a dangerous wanted murderer, I won't shoot unless I have to…but this way, I feel better having the option."

He didn't like it, but Phil was resolute. If anything, the ex-Marine was probably the best shot in the room, and though the hotel's rules were clear – licensed weapons were no exception – Jack did feel a  _little_  bit better.

Having said that, there were two things he hoped for. One was that Phil wouldn't have to pull the trigger…and the other was that if Merida found out she had to part with her bow while Phil got to keep his pistol, she'd have a hissy fit.

"Hey, is everything alright?"

All three men were startled by Elsa's sudden appearance, her prior conversation having evidently reached its conclusion. Her eyes flicked between the surprised gazes of Kai and Jack to Phil's impassive pools, knowing something was afoot.

"We're fine," Kai blurted hastily, "we were just-"

"-talking about that fugitive…" Jack interrupted. Elsa rolled her eyes and gave him unimpressed, folding her arms across her chest in a way that mimicked what Jack did whenever he was unconvinced by something.

"Not him again…I won't have this ball spoiled by thoughts of that." she said tersely, her words heavy with the weight of a command. Phil held up a hand.

"Relax, Miss Snowfield. I was just telling Jack and Kai that I brought an old friend from the Marines in case."

"Oh? Where is he?" she asked, brightening a little with curiosity. Phil merely gave her a wink and a knowing smile.

"You won't see him."

Elsa regarded the burly man in a studious manner, trying to suss out if they were keeping anything from her. Jack covered his face with his hand and readied himself for the undoubtedly fierce verbal reprisal. He couldn't lie to his girlfriend, not in this case.

"What he means is: you won't see  _it._  Phil's packing heat."

The ex-marine shot Jack a glare that screamed  _'you traitor'_  while Kai grimaced. Jack, however, raised his eyes to meet Elsa's steely glare and stiffened his resolve.

"Is this true?" she asked with a voice even and cool, her gaze fixed upon her boyfriend who met it with equal impassiveness, though his gut twisted with a little guilt.

"Yes." was Phil's answer.

"Why? The hotel's rules are clear. You cannot have a weapon in this-"

"Okay, Miss Snowfield," Phil cut her off, patently tired of the conversation, "here's the thing. Jack would have died had you not broken a firefighter's rule and entered a burning apartment, so you can't exactly lecture me on adhering to them. I hope it never comes to it, of course, but a Marine is always prepared."

"But, you'll be arrested…"

"I made that call to you all those days ago because I wasn't in a position where I could help Jack. It's a small price to pay if I have to use it to protect you two. Besides, Kai can always take over my job."

"I hope not," Kai muttered, then clarified as all three shot him quizzical looks, "we already had one situation where something like that happened. I'd rather not have a repeat of it."

Elsa moved her jaw in thought and glanced once more at Jack, who shrugged in defeat.

"You're not going to change his mind on this one, snowflake. Trust me." he said grimly. Elsa sighed deeply, pinching her nose in exasperation.

" _Fine_ ," she groaned, "but I hope your aim is still accurate."

"' _Still accurate?'_  Please. I know what I'm doing." Phil said in a manner that came dangerously close to an offended snap.

Elsa was about to open her mouth and retort, but a quiet mutter of  _'excuse me, Miss Snowfield?'_  distracted her and ran that train of thought right out of her head. All four of them switched their gazes to one of the hotel staff members that appeared behind her, and Jack recognized him as the man that bumped into him on the dancefloor. Just like before, he kept his head bowed and scratched the side of his face in a way that the CEO didn't like. He handed a note to Elsa who slowly accepted it, wondering precisely what was going on.

Jack watched as she unfolded the note, read it, and handed it.

"Can't one of the other models see to it?"

The man shook his head quite emphatically, then quickly left through one of the nearby swing doors into the adjacent corridor that led to the rooms where the models changed.

"Fine…" Elsa sighed, and began to follow the staff member. Jack's hand shot out and held her forearm, and he wore an expression of deep concern.

"Where are you going?"

"One of the models is having wardrobe problems. They've requested that I go to help them."

"I'm coming with you." he declared, but Elsa shook her head with an amused smile and a teasing snigger.

"Unfortunately, not this time."

Jack frowned, and opened his mouth to protest – something that Elsa put a stop to with a finger across his lips and a whisper in his ear.

"I don't think the models would appreciate a man being there while they're in a state of undress, and besides…the only woman  _you_ get to see naked will be me."

He didn't like it, but the sudden rush of blood to somewhere other than his brain along with the subtle coyness to her voice kind of skewed his rational thought. Reluctantly, he nodded and released his grasp, and Elsa gave him an appreciative kiss on the cheek.

"Don't worry, I won't be long."

* * *

 

Nine thirty swung around with all the relentlessness in the world, and by then the entire gang were all together and deep in conversation. Aster got over his initial bewilderment and was engaged in banter with Merida, both incredibly entertained by each other's accents, while Hiccup, Kristoff and Anna talked about a movie screenplay about dragons that was third on her list to write, third because she was already planning a movie called  _The Guardians of Childhood_.

Naturally, the Berk heir protested the order in which the screenplays would be created, maintaining that anything with dragons 'is automatically awesome and therefore should be done first'. Rapunzel and Eugene were both excitedly planning their wedding, even though it wasn't for a year or two, and Phil was engaged in a serious discussion with Kai over his prospective employment.

The only people that were missing from the conversation were Jack and Elsa, the latter having to rectify a 'wardrobe problem' as was explained to the rest of the group, and the former leaving to find out where she was after fifteen minutes had passed.

In fact, the group were  _so_  deep in conversation that they almost didn't notice Jack burst through the swing door and march onto the stage, his eyes scanning every inch of the function room with an expression that danced between worry and puzzlement. Merida was the first to notice his vigilant gaze, and she gestured for him to come closer to the group. Catching her eye, Jack gave the room one final check before jumping off the stage and striding over to her.

His expression didn't change.

"What's tha matter, laddie?" she asked, and by now all eyes were on the young CEO, awaiting his reply.

What followed sent every single stomach into an uncomfortable bout of clenching.

"Elsa's missing."

 

_to be continued..._


	40. That Damn Ball, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Right, so when I started this chapter the bloody muses wouldn't stop coming...and the final word count ended up at over 12,000. Therefore I decided to split the chapter in two and put them both up.
> 
> I sincerely hope it stands up to the suspense I've been trying to create, and reaches a satisfying conclusion (the epilogue is still to come).

Elsa wished she trusted her instincts when they screamed at her to ignore the note, to ignore the bald man with glasses that sent a chill of familiarity through her spine along with the anxiety of knowing something wasn't quite right. Had she not been so worried about the ramifications of Phil managing to sneak a pistol to the ball, she probably would have listened to the voice that said  _'ignore it'_ …

…because as soon as she passed the staff member on the way to the changing rooms, to deal with the so-called  _'wardrobe problem'_ , she felt the prick of a knife pressed against the lower part of her spine.

"Where are you going, Queenie?"

The breath hitched in Elsa's throat as her entire body went rigid, her eyes widening to their limit with realisation at exactly  _who_  that man was, and the fact that he had her at knifepoint. She mustered every iota of internal strength to resist throwing up; such was the nauseous sensation in her stomach.

"Pritchard…" whispered the now scared Elsa, the verbal understanding all too obvious.

"Not today. Keep walking." his oily tone became infinitely more commanding, edged with menace.

"Where?" she asked, complying with the order. The last thing she wanted at this moment was to feel the cold metal penetrate her back, so she continued past the changing rooms to where the moderately well-lit corridor sharply turned right.

"You will see," he muttered so only her left ear could pick it up, "for now, just keep walking. Oh, be a darling and try not to alert anyone's attention. Wouldn't want you to bleed out all over the floor now, would we?"

The pair made the right turn to where the corridor ceased and the rear of the main foyer began, and she felt the knife press into her skin a with a little agitation when they saw exactly how many people were present. Couples engaged in conversation in the seating area to the left of the reception desk. Wealthy men and women who waited to talk to the desk clerk. She could tell that the entire situation made Pritchard a little nervous judging by the renewed pressure on the knife, and prayed that he wasn't drawing blood.

She debated running away, but that could cause a host of other problems. Pritchard could disappear again, and she would be forever looking over her shoulder, fear and worry dictating her daily routine. Pritchard could react faster than her, and plunge the knife into her spinal cord before disappearing.

For now, she would comply, and wait for her moment.

"The elevators."

Obediently, Elsa walked calmly and unhurriedly towards the nearest elevator, and pressed the  _Call_  button upon receiving another verbal prompt from the deranged man.

"Why are you doing this?" she whispered, trying her absolute  _best_  to avoid giving him the satisfaction of hearing her voice crack. Pritchard's resultant chuckle was hollow and mirthless.

"When I'm done with you…you will see." he sneered as the elevator arrived, a dull  _bing_  greeting them.

Stepping through the opened doors into the suddenly exceptionally confined space, Pritchard adjusting his position so he was well within her personal space to the point that she could  _smell_  the sickening cologne on his body, her breath then hitched with hope when an auburn-haired, well-dressed man attempted to enter the lift. She prayed that he would see Pritchard's position and alert someone.

_Please._

"Get the next one."

Pritchard's hiss took the man so far aback that he was lost for words, and with a despairing sigh Elsa obediently pressed the button to close the door.

"Twenty-ninth floor. There's a good girl."

* * *

 

"What do you mean, 'missing'?"

Rapunzel's words of confusion were a direct contrast to the churning in her stomach, and it was then that Jack realised only half of the group knew about the underlying threat in the party – a threat that had now revealed itself. The only people that were made aware of Maleficent's ominous warning were Phil, Kai, Merida and Hiccup, given that the pair from Corona were out of state at the time…and Elsa knew that if Anna found out, she would drop everything she was doing with Disney and fly right back to keep an eye on her elder sister.

"As in: absent. Not here. Nowhere to be seen. Need any other definitions? I checked every changing room. No-one knows anything about a wardrobe problem, or that she was even there." Jack's answer was overly terse and sarcastic, to the point that Eugene opened his mouth for a snappy rebuke.

Phil's expression turned steely and dark, and he folded his arms with a manner that screamed  _'this means war_ '.

"He's here, isn't he?" was the inevitable gruff question from the mountainous ex-marine, which came dangerously close to a guttural growl.

The question was left unanswered as Jack was already striding out of the ballroom on his way to the reception desk, purpose in his wake. Phil was the first to follow, adjusting his tuxedo jacket as he moved to allow easier access for his right hand, accompanied by Merida and Aster. Quizzical looks were exchanged between the remaining members of the group, although Anna wore an expression that alternated between confused, worried, and dawning comprehension.

"What's going on?" Kristoff asked aloud, wondering if his partly-rhetorical question would even get an answer – and it did, from Hiccup. Taking a strengthening inhalation through his nose as he closed his eyes, he let out a deep sigh and set about the task of scaring the hell out of everyone.

"Argh, why do I have to do this…" he groaned under his breath, "…okay. The District Attorney visited the dynamic duo at their office ten days ago, and they were basically told that Pritchard Black is obsessed with Elsa-"

"Well, we knew  _that_! You saw him in high school, Hiccup! Creepy as hell…" Anna muttered, an involuntary shudder causing her words to tumble.

"What you don't know is what the cops found at his apartment. His bedroom was covered with pictures of Elsa, some of them going as far back as high school. Others had Jack in them, with his face scratched off."

Hiccup's explanation closed the throat of everyone who was listening as they came to terms with the extent of Pritchard's instability. Rapunzel's hand instinctively went to her mouth, while Anna seemed to go an odd shade of green.

"Okay, now I feel nauseous…" she whimpered.

"That's not all. They found a dead body in the bedroom, too. That's why the cops are here, why we were searched as we went in. Somehow, it seems Pritchard has managed to get into the hotel and grab Elsa without anyone noticing." Hiccup finished, letting the weight of his words attach themselves to everyone's spines and spread skin-crawling fear throughout their bodies.

"So, what do we do?" Eugene quietly asked, not noticing that his hands had placed themselves protectively on Rapunzel's upper arms.

" _We_  need to tell the cops."

* * *

 

"Jack, stop!"

Merida's shout fell on deaf ears. He would not stop, not for anything. Elsa was in danger, in the hands of an incredibly dangerous and unstable man. Marching – practically running – down the overly long corridor that led to the main reception room, all that ran through his mind were worst-case scenarios, situations that varied in horror but all had the same outcome.

As her  _'white knight'_ , he was supposed to  _protect_  Elsa. He already failed in that regard, but he would be damned if he let his failure be complete.

When thoughts of the man himself barged their way into his mind's eye with little regard for his emotional state, he felt his unusually cold skin burn with searing rage.

"Fer fuck's sake, Jacky-boy, stop!"

Merida's hand shot out to try and emphasise the point, grabbing at his left forearm to get him to stop – and he did. Normally, she could easily match Jack glare-for-glare, and in the past whenever he had lost his temper she always stood her ground.

There was something murderous in his eyes as he whirled around upon feeling her grip, something filled with unbridled fury that stole the words from the throat of even the fiery Scot. Everyone watched as his chest rose to its limit then fell completely in an effort to stymie the anger from consuming him.

"We need a plan, mate." Aster cautioned.

"I have a plan," Jack countered, his eyes now moving to the Australian, "I'm going to find Pritchard and I'm going to tear. Him. Apart."

"And where will you look? The hotel is a  _big_  place."

Jack's eyes snapped over to Phil who looked remarkably stoic under the withering glare he was given, and for a second Jack hated him – because the question was a sensible one, at odds with the clouding, seductive anger in his mind. He felt the heat start to abate, the slowing of his heart rate…and felt the pain of his clenched fists driving his nails into the palms of his hands.

"Exactly. We need a plan. We need to narrow the search." the ex-marine finished.

"What do we know so far?" Merida asked the group, folding her arms.

"Elsa got a note from one of the hotel staff members, some bald guy in glasses. Said she needed to fix a wardrobe problem. That's the last time anyone saw her."

"Okay, so first place is tha reception desk?"

"Which is where I was going before you stopped me." Jack snapped.

"Enough, Jack," Phil commanded, "that's enough. We know that Pritchard probably kidnapped her around that time, right?"

"Aye, mate. The thing is he can't go anywhere. He probably came in disguise, which let him get by the cops, right? Only, he can't leave with Elsa, because they'll suss it out. Especially if you're not with her…"

"…which means he's still in the building…" Jack finished, the cogs clicking into place, and the nausea of realisation sank into his stomach like a lead weight.

_In disguise. Still in the building. It can't be…_

"Son of a bitch!" Jack hissed, and sprinted down the corridor.

* * *

 

The lazy ascent of the elevator to the twenty-ninth floor was both a blessing and a curse for the woman held at knifepoint.

On the one hand, it increased the likelihood of Jack figuring out that something was wrong and coming to look for her – she was by no means a  _'damsel in distress'_  but would much prefer a heroic arrival over anything else at this point – thereby allowing her escape.

On the other, the increasingly agitated prods of the knife's tip indicated Pritchard's current state of mind. He might decide that this whole kidnap wasn't worth it and kill her there and then, or Jack's appearance may hasten her death.

Elsa tried very hard to ignore the subtle images that floated through her mind…those of her life so far.

* * *

 

In an uncanny sense of timing, Jack reached the reception desk just as the clerk finished handing over a key card to their newest client, a tall, gangly man with wispy blonde hair and a face that looked remarkably reminiscent of Alan Rickman. He even regarded the seemingly put-upon clerk with an identical Snape-style sneer when he accepted the keys, forgetting his manners enough to thank the staff member.

"Yes, sir…oh, Mr Overland! How can I help you? I trust the ball is-" he opened with a cheery, well-meaning voice that undoubtedly was the preferred tone upon greeting a customer. Jack, however, cut him off sharply and without regret.

"I'm looking for a man. Bald guy with glasses, wearing one of the hotel's uniforms. Does he work here?"

The clerk looked momentarily irritated at the interruption, but that changed to mild confusion at the question.

"No, sir…we do not have any members of staff that fit that description."

Jack felt the boil of anger in his heart coincide with the twisting of his gut, the clerk providing the realisation to his worst fear.

"Is there someone else who can-"

"Jack!" Merida called as she and the rest of the small group caught up, "what's going on? Why'd ye run like that?"

"The bald guy? The one who handed the note to Elsa? It's Pritchard. He snuck in to the ball with one of their uniforms!" Jack quickly explained, jerking a thumb at the clerk to emphasise the point.

"Bloody hell…" Aster hissed, running a hand down his face.

"Excuse me, sirs and madam? Is there anything I can help with?"

"Yeah," Jack snapped, rounding on the clerk with misplaced anger, "you can tell me how the fuck a wanted fugitive managed to sneak into the hotel wearing one of  _your_  uniforms?"

"Jack, stop it, laddie! It's not tha poor bastard's fault!" Merida snapped, roughly grabbing his shoulder and turning his unwilling body to face her. Jack searched her eyes, which were hard with reprimanding fire, and felt guilt settle into his stomach.

"You're right…it isn't," he sighed, "it's mine. He was right under my nose, the whole time…and now he has Elsa."

"Enough of that, Jack. The question is… _where_  is he?" Aster asked with his arms folded across his chest as his intelligent mind ticked.

"He's got an unhealthy obsession, right? So whatever he's going…he wants to do to Elsa, he'll do it here. He can't take her out of the building because of the cops. So that means…" Phil spoke, logic dictating every word that came out of his thickly bearded mouth, and as comprehension dawned in his hazel eyes he quickly turned to the clerk, who flinched with the sudden movement.

"Give me a list of everyone who booked a room this week."

The clerk shook his head a little too quickly, evidently intimidated by his mountainous stature.

"I'm sorry sir; we don't release that sort of information-" he began, but trailed off when the ex-marine leaned on the desk with his hands, his face merely inches from the clerk's.

"Here's the deal. Your hotel can either be applauded in the newspapers for aiding the capture of a fugitive wanted for murder thereby saving one of its most prestigious clients…or the hotel responsible for indirectly allowing the fugitive to go free. Which will it be?"

"Sir, I-"

"Fuck this." Aster growled, promptly vaulting the desk into to the right of the clerk, making the poor man jump out of his wits and back away a couple of steps. Jack watched the scene unfold with increasing agitation; Aster quickly busied himself with typing away at the hotel's networked computer, navigating through the myriad windows with surprising grace and finesse.

"I didn't know you could do that…" Jack frowned as Aster squinted slightly through his glasses at the newly opened reservations window.

"There's a lot you don't know about me, mate. For example, I was in the Australian Army for six years, and I know  _savate_." he answered, his eyes too focused on the screen. The clerk opened his mouth to protest some more, but found that for some odd reason he was perfectly content to watch and listen, as though the unfolding situation was far too good to miss. In preparation, Merida strode off towards the elevators and hit the  _Call_  button, apologising to an auburn-haired man for accidentally bumping into him as she did so.

"Righty, here we go," he muttered, making a  _'da-da-da'_ sound as he skipped a few names, "ignoring the physical desk bookings, we have; Alexander Mitchell, Clara May, Eleanor and Martin Smith, Pitch Black, Harvey Mikaelson…"

Jack stiffened instantly as though a lightning rod had been shoved into his spine at the mere mention of the name.

"Wait, say that name again!"

"Harvey Mikaelson?"

"No, you doofus! Before that one!" snapped Jack, waving his arms in a frantic  _'rewind'_  motion.

"Pitch…Black…" Aster trailed off, the cogs clicking in his mind too.

"Son of a bitch. Which room?" Jack asked, quickly removing his tuxedo jacket and bow tie and tossing them onto the desk, completely disregarding any rules the hotel had on that matter.

"Uhm…twenty-ninth floor, room 296."

Merida had barely returned from the elevator before Jack was already running from the desk, and she looked bewilderedly between Aster and Phil, both starting to follow him.

"Ye found him?"

"Yeah, we're on our way there now. Twenty-ninth floor." Phil answered, patting the left side of his chest as he passed her. In that moment, Merida understood how this was all going to go down, and with a stern an expression as she could muster, she fixed her gaze upon the clerk.

"Do yerself a favour an' call the cops…and ye might wanna tell everyone that's stayin' on that floor tae scarper."

The clerk nodded vigorously, his hands darting with nervous speed toward the nearby telephone but froze when Merida's hand shot out and grabbed his arm.

"One more thing, laddie. My bow and arrows, if ye dinnae mind?"

* * *

 

While the elevator ascended the final four floors prior to their destination, Elsa felt the pressure of the knife on her spine start to abate, and it sent a ball of fear into her gut with the realisation that, for Pritchard, his goal was near. She had an inkling of what he planned to do to her, and she knew that despite her hope of a timely intervention, the chances of that were dwindling with every floor the elevator skipped.

Of course, the doors had opened a few times along the way, undoubtedly people wishing to descend to the first floor for whatever that had planned for that night. Every time the doors opened, she pleaded with her eyes for someone to see, to understand the predicament she was in with the silent communication.

Every time, they did not catch on, and were told to get the next one.

Therefore, she would have to wait for her chance, and as the doors opened with a  _bing_  that sounded distinctly ominous in her ears, her heart sent another twinge of fear as two men were revealed by the sliding doors: one with a moustache the size of a yard-brush, and the other with sideburns from which you could dangle Christmas decorations…she recognised them from Jack's sketches as the men that tried to kill him.

"So, what's the plan then?" Yard-Brush asked, unfolding his arms to reveal a pistol in his right hand.

"The plan is: I take Queenie to my room and take my time over her. You two remain here; see that I am not disturbed."

Elsa's breath hitched in her throat, and she tried  _desperately_  hard to push away the invasive thoughts that swam through her mind.

"That isn't what we agreed!" Sideburns hissed, gesturing threateningly with the pistol in his left hand.

"Things change. You'll still get your payment. Just do your job!" Pritchard snapped tersely, and confident that he no longer needed to hide the knife he pulled the tip away from her spine and roughly gripped her right upper arm instead, leading her to the left towards a well-decorated, comfortably lit corridor.

Elsa's heart thundered in her ears, a storm that was intensified by the adrenaline rushing in her body. She was barely aware of several doors opening in front of and behind her, the occupants putting on their jackets with mild discomfort and wearing expressions of irritation as they closed the doors behind them. By this time, Elsa stopped bothering to send silent signals to the strangers, deciding that it was a pointless exercise and only served to strengthen the simmering despair in her chest.

They rounded the corner – the floor plan of the Arendelle Hotel was that of a large rectangle, the corridors representing the outline and the small elevator lobby cutting the rectangle in half, creating five rooms on one side and five on the other – and Elsa started to involuntarily slow down, to try and buy more time.

Pritchard would have none of it, and with a contemptuous hiss he jerked her so roughly that she nearly toppled over, pulling her towards a hotel room door.

296.

* * *

 

"This is ridiculous." Sideburns growled, pacing back and forth in deep agitation.

"You're not wrong." his compatriot muttered grimly, fingering the safety on his pistol.

Both men knew this feeling because they had endured it before, in the apartment of Jackson Overland – the downward spiral of control, the sensation that things were slipping away and the sudden changes of plan that forced the use of lateral thinking.

"What do we do?"

Yard-brush rested himself on the nearest seat and considered the question for a brief moment, weighing the options. Theoretically, with the use of the hotel uniform that they had managed to acquire from the night staff laundry room, handed to Pritchard a few blocks away from the hotel in addition to his new 'disguise', he should have been able to successfully intercept Elsa without anyone noticing. On the other hand…this was Pritchard Black.

However, the lure of money was too hard to resist.

"We play it out. Let him have his way with her, and then as soon as we get the money tomorrow, we kill him. Tie up the loose end and then get the fuck out of here to Mexico or somewhere, as far away from this as possible."

"I guess, I mean-"

Sideburns trailed off, and stiffened as he noticed several men and women appear from both sides of the lobby and make their way to the elevator that Pritchard and Elsa had stepped out of. Every one of them wore expressions of irritation and inconvenience, and some even grumbled under their breath about whatever it was that necessitated the impromptu exodus. Needless to say, they hid their weapons the instant that the people appeared.

"Hey, what's going on?" Sideburns asked the closest person, a tall, gangly man who oddly resembled Alan Rickman.

"We've been asked to make our way to the first floor lobby. The clerk wouldn't tell us why, but I can only assume it's related to the police near the function room. Honestly, this is tedious. I only just arrived…"

The whining of the man melted into white noise for Sideburns who shot his friend a worried look, and the silent communication was oddly loud and clear. Yard-Brush rose from the chair and nodded towards the other end of the elevator lobby, and they both took positions around the corners, their eyes waiting on the second elevator. They watched the floor indicator ascend past twenty-five, and both pairs of hands gripped their pistols that little bit tighter.

* * *

 

Jack rolled the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbows, scrunching them so they wouldn't flop back down at an inopportune time. Aster had done much the same thing, and it partly puzzled the fiery Scot stood at the back of the elevator.

"What's with tha rollin', laddies?"

"Means shit's about to go down, mate." Aster replied, flexing his fingers in preparation. Merida glanced at Jack, whose eyes had reclaimed the murderous glint though without the blind rage…which was altogether more worrying. The red mist can impede thought and restraint, and before you knew it whoever you happened to be attacking as the rage took over was no longer human, but crimson paste on the floor.

The cold fury in Jack's eyes however indicated the same end result – as the desired outcome. He  _knew_  he was going in there to end Pritchard Black, whether there would be anything left of him remained to be seen. Merida didn't like this. Jack was  _not_  a killer. He was a fighter, sure, but he wasn't capable of taking someone's life.

She reckoned that the loss of his family fucked him up far more than either of them realised, and she hoped that he would stop himself before he went too far.

Phil, however, was the epitome of calm and collected. He had remained still on the entire journey, save for the movement of his hand to retrieve the Beretta M9 from his shoulder holster. He had never mentioned it, but Merida had a suspicion that he  _had_  taken a life before…and Aster? Not much was known about him by anyone, including Jack. Yet, the determined expression on his tanned face indicated he knew the possibilities and made peace with them.

As for her, would she willingly take a life? She didn't know, but she figured that she would find out soon enough.

"I just thought of something…" Jack muttered, staring at a fixed point on the floor level indicator as it passed twenty-five.

"Don't keep us in suspense." Phil spoke, a steely tone to his voice.

"Pritchard would have had help. He's not clever enough to get hold of a hotel uniform on his own. He'll have had someone to help him."

The floor level passed twenty-eight, and the audible click of the Beretta's cocking by Phil's hand sounded like the crack of thunder in such a confined space, though Merida barely heard it over the thundering in her ears. Her fingers clenched over the bow and arrows in one hand so hard she feared they would snap, and with a deep galvanising breath, she prepared herself for what might come.

Then, with a  _bing_ , the doors opened. Jack started to go through, but a thick arm shot out and stopped him in his tracks. He shot an angry look at Phil, who gazed back with eyes of refusal and a shake of his head, and remembering the last time he did that, Jack stepped back and waited.

Aster was the first to move, and with silent steps he moved past Phil and, pressing himself against the elevator doorway, peered to the left just enough to see. With a shake of his head, he pulled back and then repeated the process, this time peering to the right…and instantly jerked his head back, moving himself away from the door.

"Two guys," he whispered, "they're both armed. Hidden around the corners to our right."

Phil nodded and stepped past Aster, taking the position he had since vacated before turning to the group to whisper some much needed orders.

"Here's how it's going to go. As soon as I start shooting, you three run to the opposite corner. Keep low and find cover. Jack first. Oh, and don't be a hero."

"I know the score, mate. Ex-military, remember?" Aster rolled his eyes, but tensed his body in preparation. Jack and Merida followed suit, each one ready to run like hell.

"Aussie military doesn't count." Phil winked, flashing him a teasing smirk under the curtain of beard.

"Oh shut up, ya blowhard."

Phil silently chuckled, then turned his head towards the right, bringing the pistol in front of him and pointing it to the floor.

"Three," he whispered.

Jack limbered up, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. Even under the grip of cold rage, the adrenaline of an incoming firefight was decidedly terrifying.

"Two…"

Merida slung the bow across her body so the string rested across her chest, and squeezed the arrows in her hand just that little bit tighter. Her breathing was quick, her pulse rapid…and her mind focused.

"One…"

* * *

 

A lot can change in a single second. Armies can win or lose, empires can rise or fall. The wind can change direction, luck can abandon the fortunate, and dire situations can become altogether different.

Pritchard flicked the key card in a downward motion along the reader device to the side of his door, and it beeped to grant their entry. Elsa's fear fought with her internal resolve, the preparation for her mind to  _be somewhere else_  for when Pritchard had her where he wanted her. She knew she had to wait for her chance, but she didn't know  _when_  it would come.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, unable to hide the crack in her voice. Her captor chuckled mirthlessly as he closed the door behind them with a click. She was rooted to the spot as she watched him circle her like a wolf stalks its prey, a similarly ravenous look in his eyes. It made her feel like a piece of meat, someone who possessed neither personality nor heart, simply a commodity. It filled her with alternating sensations, indignant anger with paralysing fear, and adrenaline-induced fight with adrenaline-induced flight.

"You've been the apple of my eye for so long, Elsa. So close, yet just beyond my fingertips. All I have ever wanted was to touch you, taste you, fuck you…but every time I came within sight of what I wanted to do to you, fate had different ideas. You fought me, you rejected me. I couldn't allow that, but at the same time it made me want you  _more_. I was hoping we would see more of each other when my father's company acquired yours-"

"What's left of your father's company, you mean." she snarked, shooting him a contemptuous glare.

"Silence! You do not speak to me. Your mouth will either be closed, or filled. Is that clear?"

"Go fuck yourself." Elsa hissed with defiance, her disobedient reply filling her with satisfaction, and filling  _him_  with rage.

"Oh, you'll pay for that remark soon," he growled, wrapping a hand around her throat, "but first, let's cut you out of that dress. I'm eager to see what's inside…"

His lecherous tones made it incredibly hard for Elsa to retain her emotionless exterior and not throw up, and her spine involuntarily snapped upright as the knife came closer to the neck of her dress...

…and in one second, her heart damn near burst with shock and surprise as a cacophony of gunfire erupted from the corridor behind her, each shot like a dozen cracks of thunder in what used to be an empty floor.

"What the fuck?!" hissed Pritchard, the knife and his hand pulling away from her neck. In that moment, Elsa seized her chance to turn the tables in her favour.

Reacting quickly, she wound her right arm back and smashed her fist into Pritchard's nose with a satisfying  _thunk,_ driving the glasses into his face. His head snapped back with the impact and he dropped the knife as his hands automatically went to cover his nose, a futile attempt to stem the bleeding. He looked up with shock as he staggered backwards, wondering how the hell everything was going wrong.

But Elsa was not done yet, not by a long shot. With an expression of pure fury, she advanced upon the injured man, her fists clenched with vengeful intent. He tried to counter-attack, to repay her in kind but Elsa was faster. She jabbed him in the diaphragm, knocking the wind straight out of his lungs and for the coup de grace, aimed a solid kick between his legs.

Had Pritchard a voice at that point, he would have yelled in pain…but the expression alone was enough for her. She knew it was safer for her to run, so with the skirt of her dress in one hand, she turned and bolted for the door, wrenching it open with adrenaline-fuelled purpose…

…and ran straight towards the sounds of the firefight, and the probable salvation therein.

But then, she collided with someone.

* * *

 

They did exactly what they were told.

In one fluid, deceptively quick movement, Phil whirled around the elevator doorway and fired twice at Yard-Brush and twice at Sideburns, forcing the hitmen to duck around the corners to avoid the hail of bullets coming their way.

Instantly, Jack bolted out of the elevator, followed closely by Aster and Merida, their movement protected by Phil's covering fire. Ears still ringing from the loud bangs, the Scot and the Australian huddled around the left hand corner while Jack darted for the right.

"Jack, ye stupid bastard, what're ye doin'?!"

Merida's words fell on deaf ears as he disappeared from their sight, leaving her to violently curse his blinkered ignorance. Phil fired two more times at Yard-Brush, then whirled back through the doorway as the hitman's pistol answered back with its own metallic replies, the  _clunks_  and  _clangs_  of newly formed bullet holes in the elevator wall opposite the ex-marine indicating the close calls.

Phil counted eight bullets left in his magazine, and started to whip around and return fire, but promptly had to retreat once more as bullets narrowly missed his head, adding more holes to the wall nearby.

"Argh, shit…" he hissed, knowing that the surprise was now over, and the advantage had been lost.

Aster peered around the corner, watching as Yard-Brush kept up the pressure and kept firing at the lift, cursing to himself at the unfolding situation.

"Phil's pinned down." he growled, and with a glint of purpose in his eyes he carefully stepped past Merida and darted over to the other side of the corridor.

"What're ye doin'?" she asked, wishing that  _someone_  would clarify the situation.

"Flankin' 'em. Need to take the heat off Phil. Soon as I distract 'em, you go where bloody Snow White went. No offence, but he needs your help more than I do. Got it?"

Merida nodded, and then turned to peek into the lobby, readying herself with tensed legs and roaring adrenaline. Aster disappeared behind her, keeping low, fast and quiet as he circled around the hotel floor, the beating of his heart oddly calm and measured. He chanced a quick poking of his head around the corner, and spotted a man with sideburns occasionally taking pot-shots at the elevator doors with resounding  _bangs_.

He took a quick rousing breath, and readied his most sarcastic quip.

* * *

 

"Jack!"

Elsa couldn't be more surprised and relieved to have collided with his chest, seconds after running from the hotel room. For a moment, time stood still, even with the thunderous cracks of gunfire not far away. Those sounds seemed to wash over them, become white noise as they drank in the relief that neither of them was harmed.

The moment passed, and with the aural sensation of time catching up to the present, the gunshots became loud and clear. Jack instantly wrapped his arms around her shoulders and held her so close she thought she would suffocate, but as she wrapped hers around his chest and clawed at the back of his shirt, she realised that she didn't care.

"Did he hurt you?"

The question came out of nowhere, vaguely startling her for a moment as she was distracted by the rapid rise and fall of his chest.

"No." she answered faintly, and heard an audible sigh of relief.

She felt him instantly pull back as though realisation had thrust an electrical bolt inside him, and as she looked into his eyes she noticed a look that she hadn't seen before, and it unnerved her. It was the eyes of someone who was drinking in the last sight they might see.

"Jack, what's-"

His answer was wordless, it came in the form of a capture of the lips, deep but too brief as he ripped himself away and strode past her towards the room she had just ran out of, a look dancing between determination and resignation on his chiselled features.

Elsa watched him pass, any thought or comprehension eluding her with his odd behaviour and abrupt kiss, trying to make sense of the crazy situation she found herself in, and the unsteady footing of her mind was made even more so by the arrival of Merida from around the corner, a look of worry on her face as her head occasionally darted behind her with each gunshot.

"Elsa! Are ye a'right, lass?"

The CEO could only nod weakly, her expression a silent request for explanation.

"Gunfight at tha OK Corral back there. Aster and Phil are handlin' it. Where's Jack?"

"He's…he just went into the room behind me."

Merida's eyes went wide, and she darted towards room 296, only to be greeted with the shaking of Jack's head as he closed the door on her, and the loud  _click_  of the lock sliding into place.

"Shit."

_to be continued..._


	41. That Damn Ball, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Previously, on Marvel's Agents of...wait, wrong show (FitzSkye rules, by the way).

Within seconds of finishing the call to the police, Hiccup noticed two smartly dressed men surreptitiously put their fingers to their right ears, and then promptly stride off in the same direction that Jack had taken not long ago. With that, and the arrival of two detectives from the State Police shortly after, he nursed the sinking feeling that  _something_  was going down, and he was glad to be as far from it as possible.

That's not to say he shrinks away from violence, nor will he back down from a fight – but where possible he will try to avoid one, or try to reach a beneficial solution. He had a solid feeling that Jack, Phil, Aster and Merida in addition to the arriving police would be able to rescue Elsa and bring a speedy end to the problem, and therefore he knew his place was with the rest of the group.

Especially as the guests were starting to wonder where the Snowfield part of Snowfield-Overland was.

"Excuse me," came a sweetly feminine voice from his left, and he tore his gaze from the doors to the ball room to the green eyes of the  _Vogue_  representative, "Miss Snowfield seems to be absent. That's a little odd, no?"

Hiccup's mind raced to summon a reply, one that would sound believable and successfully sate the woman's curiosity. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, finding that he was at a loss for an answer. Thankfully, Anna came to his rescue.

"My sister decided to meet with the models, to congratulate them on a job well done. She's very hands-on like that, and personally wanted them to know that she appreciates their efforts."

The younger sister's answer was both conceivable and an outright lie, nonetheless it had the desired effect. The representative's face lit up with impressed eyebrows.

"Ah, that's great! She's a very thoughtful woman…but I would imagine the ball is close to ending soon. Shouldn't she be here?"

"Yes," Anna answered, her stomach clenching once again as she cast a sidelong glance at Hiccup, "she should. She will be."

* * *

Merida's deeply anxious expression pricked at Jack's heart as he closed the door, and further stabbed at it when he slid the lock across to keep her out. He didn't want his best friend, nor his girlfriend to be present for what he was about to do.

"I'm going to fucking slice her throat for that!" Pritchard's voice from behind him reached his ears, and all guilt washed away under a sea of fury. He turned around towards his prey, who was staggering to his feet simultaneously clutching his crotch and his nose, and lightly smirked to himself at the damage that Elsa's fists had undoubtedly caused.

"No, you won't." he growled, low and firm.

Pritchard's head snapped up at the reply, and his eyes widened with surprised anger. His hand scrambled for the dropped knife to his left, intent on thrusting it into any part of Jack's body that he could.

" _You,_ " he hissed, which became a roar of anguish as he charged, "you took her from me!"

Pritchard raised the knife above his head as he surged forward, a feral glint in his eye. Jack only just raised his hand in time to block the strike, grabbing Black's wrist so the blade was inches from his face, and gripping his other arm well away from his body. He felt Pritchard put every ounce of strength into the battle, the knife slowly making its way towards his eye, so with a roar punctuated by the hammering of the door behind him, Jack summoned all of his strength and pushed Pritchard back. The two men surged away from the door towards the couches, Pritchard losing ground while Jack gained it, and with a grunt of exertion he launched the psychotic man into a coffee table behind him. Pritchard toppled over the table and landed with a snarl on the other side, but recovered quickly and stepped onto it to launch himself at Jack, using the momentum to drive the knife into his skull.

However, Jack was ready for him. His left hand shot out and blocked the knife-hand once more, and his right darted to grip the man by his neck and with a spectacular reversal of momentum he slammed Black down onto the coffee table, wood crunching and splintering around him, the knife falling from his hand and landing somewhere nearby. Circling the groaning man, Jack allowed himself a threatening growl.

"You come here…"

He ignored the growing franticness of the hammering behind him, the calls of his name and the urges to stop and grabbed the briefly stunned man, roughly pulling him to his feet.

"…you threaten my girlfriend…"

Pritchard managed a weak smirk, which earned him a vengeful head-butt. For some reason unknown to Jack, the Black ex-heir didn't seem to feel the pain, or was ignoring it. In Jack's mind, that was perfectly fine – because then he could hit him a  _lot_  more.

"…you try to destroy her life…"

An  _'oof'_  ripped out from Pritchard's lungs as Jack thrust his knee into his stomach, the impact forcing him to bend double – but Jack grabbed his throat and yanked him upright once more.

"…you don't get to do that.  _Ever. Again."_

Jack released the grip on his throat, only to curl the hand into a fist and administer a vicious back-handed strike across Pritchard's jaw, which sent the thinner man flying backwards and onto the floor with a heavy  _thud._  Grunting contemptuously, Jack turned toward the table's remnants, intent on finding Pritchard's knife and ending it once and for all.

At least, until crazed laughter reached his ears. Through all that, Pritchard was  _laughing_ , like the whole battle was some sort of comedic game. Jack turned and gave him total and utter incomprehension, completely forgetting about the knife. How could he find the summary beating he just received in any way amusing?

"You're such a hypocrite, Jackson Overland. You come here, full of protective rage, of the insipid righteous fury of a  _white knight_  determined to defend his queen, but you don't know what you really are."

Pritchard gingerly rose to his feet wiping the blood from his nose with the sleeve of his uniform. Jack didn't know why, but he found himself unable to stop listening to the poisonous words spewing from his prey's mouth. Perhaps he was humouring him, perhaps his subconscious was saying  _'let him talk, it only gives you another reason to beat him into an early grave'._

"See, all these years I've been asking myself  _'why does Elsa not love me, why can I not have her?'_ and then I realised. I'm an animal. I'm a monster. I lie, I cheat and I kill. I accept this, it is who I am…and it is who you are. Just like me…this is why she will  _never_  love you. She'll see you for who you  _really_  are, and run far, far away from you."

"I'm  _nothing_  like you. I'm not a murderer." Jack snarled, his hands curling into fists once more.

"Oh? What were you planning to do to me, then? Rough me up and then leave me for the police? No, you came here to kill me. I suppose I shouldn't be surprised…"

Pritchard held his bloodied chin high, a sneering smirk tearing up his face as he looked down upon the barely controlled Jack with taunting eyes. Neither of the men noticed the heavy  _thuds_  of someone hitting the door.

"…after all, who wouldn't want to kill the man who wiped out their family?"

Jack's eyes widened to their limit and his jaw, which up until now had been clenched to the point of achingly painful, parted just that little bit. Pritchard's smirk deepened at the reaction – which was  _exactly_  what he wanted.

"It was…" Jack trailed off, the revelation completely winding him and ceasing all thought.

"Oh, yes. I was the one that put your sister under my wheels."

In that moment, the red mist came crashing down, and all semblance of control was lost as with a rage-filled roar Jack charged at Pritchard, the impact of his tackle knocking them both to the floor. Jack was the first to recover, and as he sat astride the killer of his family he rained down strike after strike after strike, each pound of his fist feeling  _exceptionally_  good to the thundering pulse in his ears.

There was only one thought, a singular objective in what was left of his mind – turn Pritchard Black into paste with his bare fists.

He was so immersed in his vengeful, seductive fury that he barely noticed the door almost being kicked off its hinges.

* * *

"Hey mates! You shoot like bloody Marines, your aim sucks so hard!"

Aster's yell had the intended effect. He barely retreated around the corner in time to avoid a hail of bullets with his name on them, each one ripping holes in the wall and sending shards of plaster every which way. He prayed that Phil would take advantage of the momentary distraction, and smiled widely when he heard his answer in the form of the Beretta's calls to its target. Poking his head around once more, he glimpsed Yard-Brush drop to the ground as bullets tore through his chest and the shocked yell of Sideburns as he watched his compatriot fall.

Seizing the moment, Aster surged around the corner, his momentum carrying him to the opposite wall. With acrobatic finesse, he leapt into the air and aimed his right foot at the wall, his dreadlocks whipping around his face as he kicked off from it to redirect his momentum and bring his right fist smashing down into a just-turned Sideburns' face. The hitman's head snapped to the right, forcing him to stagger back into the lobby with the impact, and Aster kept up the advantage by charging forward once more, leaping into the air as he grabbed the hitman's head and thrust his knee into his face. He felt the  _crunch_ of the man's nose breaking under his flying assault, and giving him no peace he aimed a kick into the back of his left knee which crumpled him to the ground, then finished with a roundhouse kick to the back of his skull.

Sideburns crashed to the ground with a heavy  _thud_ , the assault rendering him inert and, unlike his ally, miraculously unconscious. Aster remained in a defensive pose, waiting to see if he tried to stand up again therefore needing a repeated education in precisely  _why_  you don't fuck with a military-trained Australian.

"Smooth moves, ninja-boy."

Aster's eyes flicked up to Phil, who was casually leaning against the elevator doorway wearing one hell of a smirk on his face, evidently impressed by the tattooist's moves. With a groan of pure sarcasm, Aster relaxed into a normal standing position and gave him exasperated.

" _Savate_  actually. By the way, didja like my little distraction?"

Phil chuckled at the smirk that crossed Aster's face, and sensing the danger was over, clicked the Beretta's safety back on.

"No comment, ninja-boy." came the slightly lame retort, but anything Aster was about to come up with fell short in his throat with the sudden appearance of Merida around the corner, wearing an incredibly anxious expression on her rosy features and an arrow loaded in her bow.

"Sup, Red?" Aster asked, frowning.

"Elsa's safe, but Jack locked himself in the room with Pritchard. We can't get in." she said, an edge of unwelcome fear in her voice. Spurred into action as she turned on her feet and ran in the direction she had appeared from, Aster and Phil marched off in pursuit, rounding both corners in record time to see Elsa hammering at the door and yelling for Jack to answer her.

The elder Snowfield turned to see Phil's mountainous frame dominate her vision, and with a gentle hand he guided her away from the door.

"Might want to step back for this." he muttered pointedly, taking two steps back – and with all of his strength he aimed a kick at just under the knob, the impact rattling the metal lock inside. Cursing as the door remained standing, Phil aimed kick after kick at the same spot, each one yielding a  _crunch_  that signified the door was about to give way.

With one final grunt Phil aimed his last kick, the door swinging wildly on its hinges and nearly coming off entirely, and what greeted their eyes garnered nothing but shock and surprise.

"Jack," Merida gasped, "what've ye done?"

* * *

The red mist seemed to fade away from Jack's mind, his breath which once came sharp and deep escaped from his lungs, never to be seen again. He blinked a few times as the world came back into focus, as the sounds around him became clearer and more distinct.

The worst part was their expressions – shock, mild horror and in the face of Elsa, a little fear. Jack felt shame wash over him as he drank in their demeanours, felt their judgement of him come down hard. Lost for words, he looked down at his knuckles which were covered in crimson…but not his. His eyes then moved over to the body on the floor, and a flash of fear and worry cut through the dwindling anger like a knife through butter.

Pritchard wasn't moving.

He knew the lengths to which he was willing to go to protect Elsa, knew how far he would take himself…but when he reached that point and then  _passed_  it, he felt exactly like he was described by the now still man.

A monster.

Staggering to his feet, he kept his head bowed away from everyone's silent sight, pushed between Aster and Phil and ran to the other end of the hotel floor, pressing himself into the furthest corner away from everyone else.

No words were exchanged within the group; all eyes were resting upon the inert form of Pritchard Black on the floor within the hotel room. Silently, Aster made his way over and knelt down, testing Pritchard's left wrist for a pulse.

"Against all odds," he said, surprised, "the wanker's still alive. No bloody clue how, I mean the guy's unrecognisable."

"Thank fuck fer that…" Merida sighed, relieved.

"I know, right? I mean, I told him  _'do what needs to be done'_ , but this is pretty nuts. I've never seen Jack look so pissed off." Aster mused, scratching the left side of his head.

"Neither have I…" Elsa muttered. This was a side of Jack that she  _hadn't_  seen before. Sure, she had seen the aftereffects in his apartment, and the use of it to save her sister…but to actually  _be_  there, to see the animalistic look in his cobalt eyes?

She wasn't sure if it was a side of him she liked, and it scared the hell out of her.

However, any further thoughts went right out of everyone's head when Pritchard's body suddenly jerked, his arm swiping over and taking Aster's legs out from under him. With a guttural, blood-curdling roar that sounded a little wet, he staggered to his feet and prepared to unleash his rage upon the surprised Australian, to visit upon him what he had received from Jack.

The reactions of Phil and Merida were instantaneous. With a speed that she never knew she had, the Scot took aim at Pritchard's left shoulder and let fly, the arrow embedding itself deeply into his body and forcing his body to twist with the impact – and Phil administered the coup de grace by firing a further five bullets into his chest, the close range causing each impact to push him back, and with a final gasp and a face of pure shock, Pritchard fell backwards, void of life.

Luckily, Elsa had the forethought to cover her ears before Phil's attack so she was spared the ringing that undoubtedly plagued the other three's hearing, but she was still deafened by the roaring of her heartbeat. She felt oddly numb, as though the past few minutes had been an absolute blur and her emotions were still trying to catch up. In ten minutes she had escaped the clutches of a madman, been locked out of the room by her boyfriend and witnessed the startling after-effects of a descent into rage. Had her emotions not stalled themselves to protect her, she likely would have broken down.

The thing that twisted her gut was that she was split between rushing to her boyfriend's side, to see if he was okay and wrap her arms around him…

…and to stay as far away from him as she could.

* * *

It wasn't long after the showdown that the police arrived, garnering an under-his-breath mutter of  _'late to the party as usual'_  from Aster. Phil had obediently handed over his Beretta as per their order, while Merida grudgingly let them have her bow and arrow, reminding them that  _'I expect tae have that back, ye know'_.

Escorted by two detectives and three police officers, the group were taken in the elevator down to the first floor, and despite the orders of the man named Diaval for her to stay put, Elsa had marched out of the elevator straight for the function room, leaving bewilderment in her wake. Jack opened his mouth to say something, but the cold air that followed her gave him pause.

He couldn't help hearing Pritchard's words over and over in his head, and even the comforting embrace he received from his best friend as they waited outside the function room did nothing to diminish them.

It was then that he heard his girlfriend speak – or, in a moment of guilty shame, probably  _ex-girlfriend_  judging by the look of horror on her face when the door was ripped open – to the gathered guests. Her voice seemed perfect, and he could almost  _see_ the smile she was forcing.

" _I can imagine some of you were wondering where I had disappeared to, and as Snowfield-Overland promotes honesty and trust I shall inform you as to why. Undoubtedly you will hear about this in the newspapers, so I would prefer to tell you now. Earlier this evening, I was held at knifepoint by the son of the disgraced Richard Black, who intended to take his revenge upon me for the failed acquisition of Fractal Fashion. Through the efforts of my friends and the police, I am unscathed and no worse for wear. I don't mind telling you that I didn't expect_ that _on the night's itinerary!_ "

Jack heard mild, nervous chuckles around the room at her self-deprecating joke, and allowed himself a small curl of the lips.

" _It is my firm hope that the night's events have not caused you any disquiet or forced you to rethink any decisions you have made. What happened is not a reflection on me, or our company. It is an isolated incident and will_ not  _be repeated. I would like to thank you for your patience; however as you can no doubt imagine I am due more than a few conversations with the authorities regarding the matter, so I must take my leave. Thank you all for coming, and I wish you all a good night."_

Applause echoed around the room, but it was nowhere near as raucous as it was during her first speech. Jack felt the twinge in his heart and cursed the shadow that he feared would follow – despite his death and the fall of Black Advertising, he worried that people might be reluctant to do business with Snowfield-Overland. Debts would rise, profits would fall, and over time the company would crumble. Fashion bloggers might spend less time talking about the clothes and more about the attack, thereby reducing exposure for the clothing and generating only bad publicity.

Jack felt the sinking worry that, in the end, the final victory would be Pritchard's.

The opening of the doors to his side startled him out of his reverie, and he turned his head to see Elsa stride right out of the room and towards the two detectives, who were busy taking Phil's statement. Anna followed seconds later, trying to keep up.

"Elsa…" he called out, just wishing she would look at him, and felt his heart twinge when she didn't.

"Not yet, Jack. I need some time. I need to think."

Her answer was not one that he wanted, but one that he expected as he hung his head. He didn't think it would happen any other way; when he stared at his bloodied knuckles after collapsing into the furthest corner of the twenty-ninth floor, and found he couldn't remember anything from after Pritchard's taunt to the moment he heard Merida gasp his name, he figured this would be the end result.

"For what it's worth," Anna murmured as she rested a comforting hand upon his shoulder, the sensation helping to lift his shame a little, "if I was in your position, I would have done the same thing. You saved me and you saved Elsa. She knows that, so it'll count for something."

Jack neither replied nor nodded his head. Anna's words would have meant something had he not felt the sinking feeling that after what Elsa had seen, it was the end of them.

* * *

Eleven-thirty had passed and Jack found himself sat on the hood of his Impala outside the front of the hotel, his back resting against the front windshield as he gazed up at the starry sky, letting the sounds of traffic and the conversations of passing people wash over him. He remembered the last time he did this was outside Elsa's house, where they fully opened up to each other under a starlit night. The feeling of loss was stronger now, especially given that Elsa had chosen to remain at the hotel doors to individually thank and bid goodbye the exiting guests, in an effort to maintain regularity and sensibility after the events that happened less than two hours ago.

"Ye mind scootin' over, laddie?"

Merida's voice hitched his breath as he was so lost in thought, but with a silent nod he slid to the right to allow her access. With a loud grunt, she clambered up onto the hood and rested herself against the windshield, mimicking his position to the millimetre. Silence existed briefly between the two friends, something that Jack kind of preferred at this point, a throwback to who he was six weeks ago.

"Hell of a night. I tell ye, I get meself all dressed up an' dolled up fer tha night, only tae put an arrow in some prick's shoulder. Nae exactly how I pictured tha ball tae go."

Jack merely grunted his response, his eyes firmly fixed on the constellation of Orion.

"O' course, I was thinkin'  _'am I gonna be able tae do that, tae potentially take someone's life?'_ , and after wha' happened when ye left the room, I had tha answer. If someone's threatenin' someone I care about, o' course I'll take tha shot, jus' like Phil…"

She turned to face him, her red locks partially obscuring her vision.

"…an' just like ye."

"It doesn't matter," Jack muttered grimly, the words feeling like a herculean effort to speak through a dry throat and a heavy heart, "you should have seen her face. Maybe he was right. Maybe I am a monster. She couldn't love me, not after what she saw."

"Jack," Aster's voice startled the both of them, having magically appeared in front of the car, "at the end of the day, you stepped up, mate. Sure, you took my advice a little  _too_  literally, but the fact remains that Elsa's safe, we're all safe, and none of us have to worry about that wanker ever again."

"If you say so."

"Jack…"

"Merida, what you and Aster are saying means  _nothing_. They're just words right now. Meaningless, empty words with how I'm feeling. The only person who could possibly make me feel any better can't stand the sight of me, was the most horrified when that door opened and probably doesn't want to see me again."

* * *

"Thank you for coming!" Elsa smiled, another forced expression at the representative from  _Seventeen_  magazine. Her mouth and jaw ached with how long she had to keep the smile up, when all she wanted to do was sit in silence and let her mind process the night's events.

Subconsciously, her brain was doing her work for her. Sure, she knew he had anger problems and had seen the devastation of his apartment after the attack, and in her heart she knew he only felt love for her, but she couldn't wipe the image of his animalistic eyes, his almost feral expression when the door came down. The image of Pritchard's bloodied face, still and inert on the floor, panicking internally that he had gone over the edge and beaten the life out of him.

In her heart, she knew she wasn't being fair to him, letting him stew in his guilt and shame, letting his mind wander over the possibilities. Yet, whenever she made the decision to go and talk to him, those eyes flashed in her mind and froze her to the spot.

The CEO from one of the state's most popular department stores was the last to leave, and with another forced smile and goodbye, she felt a weight be lifted off her shoulders and let the smile fall to an expression of deep consternation. Her eyes occasionally flicked to the Impala out in the street, where Jack was laid on the hood with Merida by his side and Aster in front of the car, seemingly deep in discussion.

Evidently they had no problems being near him…but the question in her mind was why she did?

" _This_  is why I could never do it."

Anna's voice disturbed her from her deep thought, and as the cold night breeze kissed her cheeks she turned to find her smiling sister gazing almost expectantly at her.

"Do what?"

"What you do. Be a CEO. Maintain a smile after everything that's happened, you know?"

Elsa let a hollow, mirthless chuckle escape her lips, feeling the weight of the previous events tinted with sadness tugging at her heart as she protectively wrapped her arms around herself.

"I thought I saw everything of Jack that I wanted to, that there was nothing hidden inside him that could hurt me…"

She sighed, and looked away from her younger sister. Had her gaze remained, she would have been witness to one of the most exaggerated rolling of the eyes in the history of mankind…but she  _did_  hear the loud groan.

"Elsa, he would  _never_  hurt you-"

"You didn't see his face, Anna. It was…it was like staring at rage itself." Elsa said in an attempt at a reproachful voice, which her younger sister shrugged off like it was nothing.

"Actually, I did…sorta," she retorted, holding an open hand in front of her and wiggling it to emphasise the  _'sorta'_ , "and he kind of had a reason for it."

Elsa's gaze snapped right back, a questioning look in her eyes and a silent request for clarification on her face. Anna took a deep exhalation through her nose, and prepared to relive that night.

"I only saw the back of his head, and bear in mind I was starting to lose consciousness, but there was something in the way Jack fought that, a couple of hours after I woke up in the hospital, made me think he  _had_  a lot of anger to work through…and after what I just found out, I'm not surprised he lost control."

"What do you mean?" Elsa asked, concerned curiosity joining the expression on her face.

"Pritchard was the one that killed his family, Elsa. Pritchard was the one that ran them over. I overheard two of the detectives talking about it after they took the statements. One of them, Diaval or something, said if he was in that position he wouldn't have stopped."

Elsa let the words sink in like a lead weight, the comprehension dawning on her face. The whole incident had felt like a jigsaw puzzle, and Anna just provided the final piece, the last piece of insight into why Jack reacted the way he did.

"He must have found out. Pritchard must have used it against him, and that's what made him lose control…but it still doesn't explain why he locked us out of the room…" Elsa mused.

"That's easy. He was protecting you. He didn't want you to see. He knew that as long as Pritchard was alive, you would never be safe. He did it to protect  _you_  just like he stopped beating the everliving shit out of him because of  _you_. Right now, he thinks that you see him as a monster, and hiding up here isn't exactly helping that." Anna finished with a harshly reprimanding tone to her voice.

_There's that Anna-grade sternness again…_

"It's just…his face was terrifying…" Elsa weakly muttered, her head hanging. Anna stepped forward and wrapped her elder sister in a tight, warm, familial embrace.

"I know, 'sis. You're asking yourself if he could ever hurt you like that…but you already know the answer."

Elsa nodded into her shoulder, a moistness creeping into her eyes. She was right. Though the whole ordeal had been terrifying, and her mind was racing a hundred miles an hour from start to finish, she had plenty of chances to talk with Jack, to help  _him_  come to terms with what happened as well as  _her_. She ignored all of them and it led to the heartache that they were both feeling, his ever-strengthening worry that she thought he was dangerous to her.

"Do you love him?" was another of Anna's armour piercing questions, but it was one that Elsa instantly had an answer for.

"With all my heart."

"Then do yourself a favour, and get your ass down those steps and toward your boyfriend. You both have some talking to do."

* * *

"Look, all of us are feelin' the aftermath, mate. I mean, Merida actually shot someone with an arrow for the first time, and I had to swing back to my old military ways." Aster spoke, a sage-like edge to his voice.

"Not tae mention Phil. I mean, I'm guessin' the guy hasn't had tae kill someone since tha last war he fought in, and he had tae shoot two people dead. I know he's better at handlin' it than we are, an' I'm probably gonna have tae see someone tae get me head checked, but I reckon tha big guy is a bit shaken up under all that fluff."

Merida's words seemed to have an effect on the brooding Jack, who felt his thoughts swing away from self-hate towards sympathy and solidarity. He reached out a hand towards Merida, who accepted it gratefully and gave it a comforting squeeze.

"I guess you're right. I just…I don't wanna lose her, you know? I've got this feeling that I already have, like she's too scared I'm gonna hurt her."

"Pfft. Ye'd never hurt her, nor would ye hurt any of us…but remind me to stay outta yer bad books." Merida scoffed, and then finished with a snigger.

"Shyeah, like you'd ever let me hurt you." Jack rolled his eyes with a sarcastic drawl.

"Probably not, but ye'd put up a better fight than ye used tae." Merida chuckled, the sound infecting Aster's lungs and eliciting mirth from him as well, and before long Jack was joining in with the sounds of laughter.

"Thanks for being here, guys. If you all weren't there with me…"

"No problem, mate. Happy to help…and don't think about what could have happened, else you'll never come to terms with it."

Aster stiffened upon finishing his sentence, noticing a familiar woman descend the steps and walk towards them.

"C'mon, Red. Time for us to go." he said pointedly. Merida followed his gaze as she sat up from the windshield, and with an  _'oh…'_  of realisation she slid down from the hood and, accepting Aster's helping hand, clambered down from the car. Jack frowned as he watched them leave, and felt his heart begin to twinge once more as he saw them cast respectful nods at Elsa.

"Shit…" he muttered under his breath, returning his gaze to the sky. He steeled himself with a skeleton of pessimism, waiting for her to come to the conclusion that he had already reached.

"Hey…" her first word reached his ears, like music to his heart but at the same time increasing the ache. In a throwback to the early days, he grunted a quiet  _'hi'_  in return. Though at that moment he would like nothing more than to have her near him, at the same time he was angry that she left him to stew for so long.

"I…I wanted to thank you for being there for me, for coming to my aid…" she began, uncertain of her words especially with his apparently icy demeanour. It brought her right back to the first business meeting they had, when he was nothing but cold and firm.

"Heh," he chuckled, a slightly acid tone to his voice, "from what I saw when I walked into the room, you handled yourself pretty well."

"Be that as it may, had it not been for the timely arrival of yourself and your friends, I likely wouldn't be here right now. Pritchard would have caught up to me."

She tried to keep the memory of her statement at bay, where Detective Aurora had basically told her what awaited her in Pritchard's bedroom. Condoms, handcuffs, gags, ropes…industrial size plastic sheets, bleach…

"You know all I wanted to do was keep you safe, right?"

"Yes, I-"

"And that was the only reason I locked the door, right? To protect you?"

"I do, Jack, I-"

"That's why I'm moving out. I'm going to stay at Nick's house. Pritchard was right; I am a monster, just like him. I went into that room with the intention of tearing him apart, and there was nothing anyone could do to stop me. Your expression pretty much confirmed that. It's safer for you to be far away from me…"

He slid off the hood of his car and reached into his trouser pocket for his keys, making his way to the driver's side door. He kept his head down and his eyes away from her

"…so you're only going to see me at work. I don't want to hurt you, Elsa. That's why I'm going."

Elsa's breath stalled in her throat at his words, and she felt her heart begin to break. After all they had been through, the trials they had endured to be together, was he breaking up with her  _now?_  So he could protect her…but from him? She felt her eyes begin to moisten, and try as she might no words could come up…but her next action spoke volumes. Her hand shot out and gripped his forearm, and he instantly froze just like he did when he gave her a lift all those weeks ago.

"Please don't go."

Finally finding her voice, she bored her eyes into his, willing him to look at her. He still avoided her gaze, like it hurt him to even feel her sight upon him.

"I know why you lost it. I know what he did to you."

A single tear slid down from his right eye, and in that moment Elsa understood how much his own heart was cracking. Tonight had been hell for the both of them in equal measure, and the distancing of each other only helped to exacerbate it. Tentatively, she placed her other hand under his chin and gently guided his face towards her, but  _still_  he avoided her eyes like he wasn't worthy enough.

"I'm not going to deny that what I saw scared me, that after all that happened I couldn't think straight. I'm not going to say that for a while, I wasn't scared to be near you in case you hurt me…"

Jack's eyes snapped over to hers, shining with unshed tears. He correctly figured that would be why she avoided him…but to hear her say it out loud felt like a dagger in his chest.

"…but after some time and a few stern words from my ever-so-wise little sister, I know you could  _never_  hurt me. I know that all you've done so far in our relationship has been to keep me safe. You're not a monster, Jack Frost. You never have been. You would never hurt those that you love; you would only hurt those that threaten them. I'm sorry that I avoided you for so long."

She thumbed away the tear that had sneaked down his cheek, and found that she had neglected to prevent her own from sliding down to her lips.

"For this, and for everything, I love you so fucking much it hurts, and it would break my heart if you left. So please… _please_  don't go."

Jack dropped the keys in his hand and thrust his arms around her in a tight, needing embrace that she was only too happy to return, and for a few minutes all they could do was sob into each other's shoulders, letting the pent-up emotions of the night work their way out through their tears.

"I love you too, Elsa." he murmured into the fabric of her dress, the words mending both of their hearts that were so close to breaking.

* * *

"So, what are the plans for tomorrow?"

Hiccup's innocuous question was a welcome distraction for the group, as they all considered their replies. If anything, it brought some much needed positivity to the air between them.

"Me, I'm fuckin' off back to Burgess, mate. Got a client comin' in at twelve for some ridiculous  _My Little Pony_  design on their bloody arse."

"Oh, you do tattoos? Hey, can I email you a design of a dragon? I'm thinking about having it as a back piece." Hiccup asked, grinning with mild excitement as he handed over his phone. Aster nodded, inputting his contact details and returning it to the Berk heir's waiting hand.

"Hey, can I have yer number too?" Merida asked, passing her phone over as well. Aster smirked to himself as he added it to her contact list too.

"Thanks! I'm stayin' fer a little while. Mammy wants me tae look at tha viability o' setting up a distillery over here. That, an' I figure Jacky-boy could use his bestie. What about you lot?" she asked, her question aimed at the two couples.

"Eugene and I are gonna head back to Corona, provided Elsa's gonna be okay. I really hope she will be."

Aster, Merida and Anna exchanged worried glances which Rapunzel didn't miss, but chose not to pursue.

"I'm going to talk to the team leader at Disney, get her take on all this. If they're okay with it, I might stick around for a couple of days, keep an eye on my sister. What about you, Hiccup?"

A look of sadness and regret flashed across his face, before he quickly reasserted his easy-going demeanour and ruffled his chocolate locks, hiding behind a self-effacing smile.

"I'm gonna fly back to Scotland. I'm…I'm kinda missing Astrid. Even if the first thing she does is steal my leg. Phil? What about you?"

"Me? I'm going back to work. One of us has to earn a living, including ninja tattoo artists."

Chuckles erupted around the group at Phil's joke, and Merida found herself glancing down towards the Impala. With a swell of relief, she nudged Aster and nodded over towards the car, and as he followed her gaze, he felt a smile creep across his lips as he watched Elsa and Jack bury themselves in each other's arms.

"Guess they worked it out…" Merida smiled, muttering so only Aster could hear.

"Aye. I reckon they're gonna be alright."


	42. Epilogue: All Good Things...

The past six years had been a bit of a blur, if he had to be honest. Shortly after an investigation into the incident at Arendelle Hotel, where Jack, Phil, Aster and Merida were found by the police to be acting in defence of themselves and of Elsa, the two CEOs re-joined the Business Studies semesters at the college to reinforce everything that they had already knew and were putting into practice.

Naturally, their lecturer gave them a funny look the day they walked in, remarking that as co-CEOs, what could he teach that was of any use to them? Jack wittily replied that it was a break from work.

After that, despite the less-than-desired ending to the ball, Snowfield-Overland had gone from strength to strength. With glowing reviews from the fashion magazines – as well as quite a few newspaper articles about the heroics displayed by the two CEOs and their allies – they found that investors were keen to throw their lot in with the young company, and that department stores were quite interested in stocking their wares.

So, about a year and a half after the events of that night and college degrees under the CEOs' belt, Snowfield-Overland announced plans to build its own store in Arendelle City, with the possibility of building further stores around the country…and the moment the press conference finished, the first thing Elsa and Jack did was retreat to their office and toast the fact that everything that they worked towards was coming to fruition.

Two years into their relationship, and Jack decided to take it to the next level…with an impromptu vacation to South Africa.

* * *

 

She had never been to God's Window before, and regretfully hadn't even searched for it on the ever-omniscient Google search engine. Yet, twenty feet away from a clearing of red dirt that functioned as a parking lot where local ladies sold their wares to tourists – ranging from rugs to carved bowls and elephants… _all_  handmade – Elsa was struck with the notion that this was something she should have done a long time ago.

Jack was a little…odd on the long drive, she noticed. He kept fingering something in his pocket, and as they exited the car upon arriving at God's Window, he clutched a shoebox that he passed to her, giving her clear orders to wait for five minutes before opening it. There was something in his eyes that screamed how important it was to him that she complies with his request, so she did.

And when the five minutes were up, with curious and slightly trembling fingers, she opened the shoebox and was greeted with several photographs and newspaper articles, things that Jack had compiled over the past few months. The first was of the Mental Health lecture room, with red marker circling three seats at the back, and with a smile Elsa recognised the significance of the photograph – the place where they first met.

The next one was of the street corner where she literally bumped into him, which set off a chain of events that were documented in every single photograph and cutting contained in the shoebox. His apartment before and after the fire, her house, Valley of the Living Beats, every defining moment in their relationship was contained in that box all the way to the announcement of the plans for their new store. As she studied each piece of evidence with nostalgic warmth that burned in her chest like a pleasant fire, a vibration in the pocket of her three-quarter length cream trousers alerted her to a notification – which, as it turned out, was the final document sent over her Bluetooth connection. It was a picture of her, looking through the box.

Whirling around in the direction of where she thought the picture had been taken from, her eyes rested upon Jack's cheeky smirk as he waggled his phone.

"What…what are you doing?" she asked, a little confused. So far, the significance of the shoebox was undeniable, but she couldn't fathom the message at all…having said that, sometimes Jack was a law unto himself.

"Adding another milestone." was his simple response, his words filled with forethought. It was then that Elsa knew he was planning something; he had the same look in his eye when they thrashed out the plans for Snowfield-Overland in the first place.

Taking the shoebox from her and placing it back in the car; he laced his right fingers with her left and led her to the edge of the clearing, which looked to Elsa to be some fencing and a few trees, and what looked like a 'DO NOT GO PAST THIS POINT' sign. She wondered what game he was playing, why they were walking in this direction instead of toward the handmade wooden rhinos and elephants that she had been deeply interested in prior to opening the shoebox…but as they passed the fencing – and in typical Jackson Overland brazenness, the warning sign – a deep and loud gasp escaped her lips as her eyes shot wide, and she found out exactly why this place was named God's Window.

It was as though the ground fell away and the world opened up. As far as her eyes could see was lush forest in a ravine more than nine hundred metres below her, the panoramic view under the stunning blue sky stealing her breath and keeping it forever – and as they stopped a couple of metres away from the sheer drop, for a moment Elsa thought she was flying.

"This…" she tried, but found that words were insufficient for the sheer beauty that ingrained itself into her memories, "this is…I have no idea how to describe what I'm feeling right now."

She heard a slightly nervous chuckle from her left, and that was an emotion Jack only showed when there was something on his mind, something important to him that he needed to say or do. She opened her mouth to ask if he was okay, but he got there first.

"Eugene and I talked for a little bit when Rapunzel kicked me out of the hotel room to do your hair, and there's one thing that stuck in my mind ever since then." he mused sagely, recalling the conversation in its entirety.

"What's that?"

"Location, location, location. I never told you this, but Mom and Dad took me here when I was eight, you know, before he became a work-obsessed ass. I kinda fell in love with this place, and as I grew up, I knew that if I ever met someone special, I would take them here."

Elsa's smile widened, and she squeezed his fingers in appreciative response…but Jack was only getting started.

"While you were looking through the box, I was trying like hell to work out what I was going to say, but now we're here, I haven't a fucking clue. So here goes."

He turned his head towards her and fixed her with a gaze so sincere, so…intense that it hitched her breath.

"You are the best thing that has happened to me. You brought me out of my suicidal hole, you saved my life twice and you helped me learn to love again, to allow others to love me. You introduced me to friends that I never thought I would have, people that I hold close to my heart. You understood me, you changed me, and I don't think there's anything I could ever do to repay you for what you've given me. You gave me your heart, your love, your trust, and your soul. I love you so damn much it hurts, Elsa, so what I'm about to do feels like the easiest thing in the world."

He then released her hand which elicited a small frown…something that changed to a gasp of realisation when he dropped down onto one knee and produced a small, red velvet box from his black three-quarter length trousers. He gently opened the lid, and proudly sat inside was a silver ring with tiny snowflakes engraved in the metal, and a larger snowflake with a shimmering, elegant diamond adorning the top.

"Elsa Snowfield, will you marry me?"

For the second time, Elsa found herself at a complete loss for words. Jack was very good at keeping things close to his chest despite being open and honest with her, and that facet of his personality had paid off. Without first checking with her brain, her eyes began to shimmer with unshed tears as she answered with all the certainty and joy in the world.

"Yes! Yes, oh my fucking God yes!" she practically squealed, throwing herself at the man who would later become her husband, the man who right now wore an expression of stunned surprise mixed with unsurpassable happiness. Gripping his white 'Snowballs and Fun Times' t-shirt, she couldn't help but let little sobs of joy escape into his shoulder, and her embrace intensified when his arms wrapped around hers and could practically feel the warmth of his smile on her skin.

It took a ridiculous amount of effort to pull away from him…but she knew she had to because there was one final part to the proposal. Extending her hand, she felt the cold touch of metal slide along her left ring finger, and as though an eternity had passed when it reached the end, she threw her arms around his head and captured his lips in a passionate, smiling, happy kiss.

* * *

 

"You're like a groom at the altar, mate. Calm down."

Aster's teasing words, an echo of the ball, aroused a feeling of nervous irritation within Jack's chest. Stating the obvious was one of Jack's pet hates, which for some reason Aster knew exactly how to use to his advantage.

"It's because I am a groom at the altar, you fucking kangaroo." he hissed in return, the irritation growing when he cast a sidelong glare at his best man who wore a victorious smirk.

The Australian was right, though. The nerves he felt before the ball were nothing compared to now, absolutely insignificant. As he cast his gaze over the assorted members of the congregation, he felt the anxiety course through his body like an unstoppable wave. Nicholas and Thiana – his godmother wearing a vibrant blue dress, naturally – sat in the front right row toting what looked like a crate's worth of tissues. A smartly dressed Hiccup and elegantly styled Astrid sat on the other side, and when they caught his eye Astrid waved gleefully at him with her left hand – her wedding ring reminding him of just how much his life was about to change again – while the Berk heir cast a respectful nod, wearing an expression of ' _you just wait, buddy'_. Rapunzel and Eugene sat to their left, with looks of nostalgic remembrance on their faces of their own wedding day, split with barely controlled happiness at the imminent union.

"How're you feeling?" Kristoff asked from somewhere nearby Aster, he wasn't sure where. Everything felt surreal to him. The altar, the flowers, the ambient music...

…the Wedding March.

Jack's head whirled around – as did everybody else's – pretty much after the first two notes, and as the door opened, he felt the entire world fall away along with his breathing, his mind, and pretty much anything that wasn't focused on the woman escorted by Kai. The woman wearing the most stunning dress he had ever laid his eyes on, clutching a bouquet of light Blue Moon roses. He couldn't see her face behind the white veil, but he knew. He knew that she was beaming with such dazzling happiness…because he was too. Her train flowed about eight feet behind her, tended to by a pregnancy bump-bearing, grinning Anna…and a cheerful, smirking Merida following behind her.

She was about halfway along the aisle when it hit him – in his mind, the most beautiful, the most resplendent woman in the world was walking towards  _him_ , was going to marry  _him_.

To say that he felt like the luckiest man in the world…was the understatement of the century.

The next ten minutes were somewhat of a blur for the young man, and if he was honest he was barely listening to the priest as he was too busy trying not to look to his left…but as the moment approached, his attention was suddenly snapped to the present.

 

" _Jackson Overland, do you take Elsa Snowfield to be your wife? Do you promise to be true to her in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love her and honour her all the days of your life?"_

" _I do."_

" _Elsa Snowfield, do you take Jackson Overland to be your husband? Do you promise to be true to him in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health, to love him and honour him all the days of your life?"_

" _I do."_

 

The rings were exchanged, the vows over…all Jack was waiting for was the final few words.

 

" _I now pronounce you husband and wife."_

" _You may kiss the bride."_

 

So after lifting the veil to reveal everything he ever wanted and more in Elsa Overland's beaming, blushing, tear-stained face, he did.

And it was glorious.

It was right.

It was  _perfect._

* * *

 

It was about a year after that, the most magical ceremony of his life, where he and his wife danced the night away to  _All of Me_  by John Legend, where Elsa had tossed the bouquet behind her only for it to be caught by Merida of all people – Aster had become single about six months prior to the wedding, so naturally he shuffled a few steps away – that little Selene Overland was born.

Jack would never forget the moment when she was laid in her mother's arms, screaming her little lungs out, covered in the usual gunk from childbirth and preceded by  _several_  curse words that no-one on earth should ever hear, the tired, sweating but  _glowing_  face of her mother gazing with love at the little bundle of joy, that Jack knew he had  _two_  precious women in his life to love and care for with every fibre of his being…

…and his heart burst with gratitude.

* * *

 

"You sure you're okay?"

It was probably the umpteenth time that Jack asked the same question to Elsa. Sat in the Impala, which wore the signs of use and age upon its black hull as they travelled to North and Thiana's house, she rolled her eyes with an exasperated sigh, but couldn't stop the appreciative half-smile from lighting up her face.

"Jack, I'm pregnant. I'm not an invalid…and besides, it's not like this is our first. Honestly, you're worrying  _now_  more than you did when I was pregnant with Selene!"

"Alright, point taken. I'll stop asking." he chuckled, resting his right hand on the gear stick to relax his muscles. It had been a long day, what with their little three year old running around Snowfield House with her brand new Avengers action figures – made by Snowfield-Overland, naturally – pretending to be Iron Man defeating the villainous Ultron. Of course, Daddy had to play the bad guy, and there's only so much of a pounding from little fists that one can take. On top of that, with Elsa being five months along with their second, his attention was undoubtedly split between fending off his excited daughter's attacks and making sure her mother had everything she needed.

Needless to say, though it was only one o'clock on Christmas afternoon, he felt the acute effects of exhaustion settling in his aching limbs. Yet, the smooth kiss of the wedding ring on his finger reminded him of a fact that he already knew – there was nowhere else he would rather be than right there, with his wife and daughter, and second on the way.

"No," Elsa's voice from his right disturbed him from his pleasant musing, as did her cool hand on his, "don't ever stop asking."

He glanced to the right and was greeted with one of the warmest, most loving smiles she had ever given him as she rested her head against the seat, and he understood how exhausting it was to be a pregnant woman, especially one that happens to be the co-CEO of one of the biggest clothing and toy-making companies in the US. The biological and hormonal effects of pregnancy on a woman's body are hell, and though she was an absolute trooper when Selene was on her way as well as now, he knew that if he was finding it tough, it was even  _more_  so for her. Therefore, he felt his fussing was justified, even if it earned him quite a few snaps and grumbles, and polite requests to leave her alone followed shortly by being yanked off his feet and onto her soft, tender lips.

The wedding band on his finger kissed his skin as it always would, a reminder of what he had gained over the years. A loving and devoted wife, a gloriously bouncy child with shimmering blonde hair woven into a single braid  _"just like Mama's"_  – mercifully, completely asleep in the rear child seat due to the morning's events – a strong and proud company that went from strength to strength…and family…with another child to add to the growing Overland clan.

What he lost nine years ago, he gained and  _more_.

He had been so lost in thought that their arrival at his godparents' house came sooner than he expected, and as they had been every year before now, Nicholas and Thiana waited happily and patiently at their front door. He knew that, for Thiana, this was everything she had ever dreamed of. Through Jack and Elsa, she had a family…even though some of them weren't blood related, she didn't care. As far as she was concerned the entire gang was her family, even if two of them were in Scotland and one hailed from the other end of the world.

Nicholas and Thiana had taken to seeing the world after the birth of Snowfield-Overland, seeing it through new eyes. Not through the vision of business nor the opportunity for marketing, but for pleasure and fun…and naturally, his godfather returned with a great deal more knick-knacks than he ever had before, and one of his favourite things to do was to sit little Selene down in front of him along with Anna and Kristoff's children Erin and Oscar, and tell them all about their travels around the world.

For the Bjorgman family, life was great.  _A Kingdom of Isolation_ was well-received and almost an overnight success, garnering huge profits and a massive, massive following for Disney to the point that two years after its release, the enchanting hold it had on the world was still present. She had later developed and created the movie  _The Guardians of Childhood_ , with the intent of telling the story of Jack Frost, Father Christmas, the Easter Bunny, the Tooth Fairy and Sandman, and the roles they played in protecting the children of the world. Naturally, she followed the advice  _"Write What You Know"…_ therefore the Easter Bunny had a thick Australian accent, Sandman was bright but silent, Father Christmas was boisterous, huge and Russian, the Tooth Fairy was energetic and rainbow-coloured…and Jack Frost? There was a reason that Jack  _Overland_  slunk down into his seat with embarrassment at the premiere.

It wasn't long after, that the internet exploded with something called  _'shipping'_  decreeing that the elder sister of  _Isolation_  and the impish, mischievous spirit of  _Guardians_  should meet and fall for each other…and Anna agreed. Not just because of the fans – but because she had  _planned it from the start_.

 _Dragon Training_  began production about a year after that, and Hiccup provided such valuable insight to the project to the point that he created each dragon, designed their quirks and personalities…and his help was so useful that Anna decided to include him in the credits, and immortalised his likeness in the lead role. Of course, she couldn't resist a joke at his expense, using the awkward, sarcastic high-school era Hiccup as inspiration.

Darting round to the front passenger door to free Elsa from the confines of his Impala, he opened it and offered a hand to his wife, which she took gratefully yet a little exasperatedly. Pregnant or not, Elsa still liked to maintain her independence – though she wasn't above a helping hand every now and then – and once both of her feet were on the ground, a landing heralded by a deep exhalation of breath announced her exit from the car, both hands returning to her bump.

Jack planted a tender kiss on her temple as he shut the door behind her, and just as he was about to open Selene's side…Elsa's hand shot away from her bump, grasped his right wrist and jerked his digits over to her stomach. Even if it was their second time, the sensation of their son's kicking never failed to both shock and overjoy them.

"I think we've got a little soccer champ in the making!" Jack grinned, eyes glinting with pride.

"Don't mention that to Aster, he'll want to train him in  _savate_!"

Jack was about to disagree, even going so far as to ready the words in his throat, but knew that Elsa was right.

Aster continued his life much as he always did. He had his tattoo parlour, his dreadlocks, his art…and had recently branched out into piercings. When Jack once asked him if he had any plans, any dreams, the Australian's response was a short but wise one –  _"Nah, mate. I'm exactly where I wanna be"._  Which was true, he was happy with his lot in life.

Once the kicking had ceased – Jack wanted to take advantage of every moment that he felt his son's foot – with a smile he returned his attention to opening the rear passenger door…

…which was a good thing as Selene had awoken and was bouncing in her seat with unrestrained, exuberant glee. She had her mother's hair and aura of stately grace – when she wasn't indulging in tearing around the house like a never-ending ball of energy, that is – and possessed the eyes of her father along with his cheeky, mischievous smirk.

"Is Uncle Hiccup here? Does he have his dragons, Papa?" squeaked their daughter as she slid from the car seat with distinct eagerness.

"Not this time, kiddo," Jack smiled, stopping himself short of ruffling her hair as she liked to keep her bangs  _just so_ , "we'll see him soon, though. I promise!"

The heir of Berk Aerospace became the CEO shortly after his wedding to Astrid, as his father Stoick "The Vast" Haddock decided that he wanted to spend more time with his wife Valka. His  _Night Fury Protocol_  was a success, and upon the press release of his new toy he found that Berk Aerospace was being courted by more than a few governments about using it…and potentially long-term military contracts. He still knew when to take time out, though, and every so often he would drop by Arendelle City to say hi to the gang…as well as swing by Aster's parlour for his back piece, and it only took him a total of two days to complete it. The design was of Toothless' tail near the nape of his neck, snaking down to the main body in the middle of his back where his wings were spread out with intimidating power, and the head at the base of his spine, roaring with all the fury he could muster. A blue glow traced along Toothless' tail all the way to his head and shone from his mouth, only adding to – in Hiccup's words – its badassery.

It also had a bonus effect – Hiccup sent a text to Jack about a day after he returned from finishing his tattoo, noting that Astrid couldn't keep her hands off him.

"What about Auntie Merida? Is she here? Please say she is!" Selene looked pleadingly between her mother and father…and brightness rivalling that of the sun shone on her face upon hearing a familiar voice.

"I'm right here, little lassie!"

Both parents' heads turned to find Merida stepping down from the veranda of Nick's house and striding over towards them, and in the blink of an eye Selene shot down from the car and raced over to tackle the Scot's legs in a pintsize hug.

"Merida! Missed you!" she squeaked into the fabric of the flame-haired woman's  _Bravery_  dress.

"Och, I missed ye too, lassie," she grinned, her red curls momentarily flying with the wind as she crouched to Selene's eye level, "how was yer Christmas morning?"

"It was great! I got Iron Man, and Captain America, and Black Widow…and…"

"Did Santa get ye a bow an' arrow?" Merida asked with the gasp only associated with talking to a small child…smirking evilly when she saw the look of anxiety dancing between the Overland parents.

"No…not yet…" the little one whined with disappointment.

"Well, we'll just have tae see what he's left fer ye here, aye?" the Scot winked, pulling Selene into a loving hug.

For Merida Dunbroch, life was great. She returned to Scotland a week after the events at the hotel, armed with research and potential building sites for the new distillery…and after two years, work began on the US branch of their company. What surprised Merida once the plans were announced was that she would be the head of the company on that side of the Atlantic – a de facto CEO. It was something she was strangely comfortable with, having previously rebelled against the very idea. Besides, it meant that she could still spend time with her friends…and Aster.

After the hotel battle, Merida and Aster stayed in regular contact, even when she returned to Scotland. They found that they had a lot in common; a desire for freedom, to break from the norm, a fiery spirit and a take-no-shit attitude. It also helped that an invisible bond had developed between them after the battle, where they essentially fought together and – though Aster would never admit it out of pride – she stopped Pritchard from hammering his fists into the Australian's face.

Eventually, that friendship began to blossom over time, and after quite a long while they began officially dating. Unsurprisingly, Jack was gobsmacked with the news as was pretty much everyone else – Merida had made no secret of her preference for the single life, and Aster never seemed particularly bothered by the idea of dating after his break-up. They both stressed they were going to take it slowly and easily, to just go with the flow and let things happen in their own time. In a sense, neither of them was looking for anything serious, just to hang out with each other…and if it became something more? Well, they'd cross that bridge when they came to it.

Of course, Anna couldn't resist immortalising the 'relationship' with a portmanteau – Merister.

Jack thought to himself that it sounded like the name of a movie villain.

Speaking of villains…the threat of Black was long gone, something that Jack was  _still_  thankful for six years later. Though Maleficent and the Burgess D.A. lamented Pritchard's rather timely death, preferring instead to weigh him down with several attempted murder and first degree murder indictments, they did concede that the events at the hotel couldn't have happened any other way.

Richard Black was indicted with countless charges – though, the statute of limitations had run its course with the vast majority – but as the patriarch of the Black company he was therefore considered complicit in its activities, even those of his son. Maleficent had enough on him  _and_ Julian Weselton to bury them for life…and anyone even remotely connected to the crimes, or had the vaguest inkling of their nefarious activities were indicted appropriately.

Needless to say, Black Advertising and the Southernisle & Weselton Partnership ceased to be – though it had an effect on employment and the market. With Maleficent effectively dismantling the corporation, all the individual companies that Black had acquired over the years found they were free once more, though the vast majority had to start employment drives to fill the ranks of those they had lost, and others had to seek new investors so they didn't go under. Unfortunately a few of them found that the damage had already been done, and went into administration. It was a bitter effect, but sometimes that is the nature of business.

For Southernisle and Weselton, the damage was catastrophic, as was the effect on Maleficent's caseload. Every trial they had won was reinvestigated, and those that had escaped justice on mistrials or technicalities that should never have been there in the first place were arrested and found guilty.

When Jack and Elsa were present for the sentencing of Black and Weselton for the multitude of crimes they had committed, with special emphasis on the murder of Sarah and Sophie Overland, he knew in his heart that justice had finally been achieved. It was one of the most gratifying periods of his life. In a small way of thanks to the tireless efforts of D.A. Maleficent, he invited her to every shindig or ball that Snowfield-Overland hosted over the years.

Politely, she refused every single invite.

Selene grasped Merida's hand and led her towards the front door of Nicholas and Thiana's house, practically pulling the jovial Scot off her feet, and as Jack shut her car door and laced his left fingers with Elsa's right digits, his mind was ablaze as it was every year with everything, and everyone he was thankful for.

Especially his wife.

No-one had as great an effect on his life as Elsa, not by a long shot. He arrived in Arendelle City nine years ago intent to just be alone, to compartmentalise his grief and his emotions and simply exist, for every breath to be the ticking of a clock, counting down until he died, whether of old age or suicide.

But she never gave up on him, whether as a friend or something more. She wanted to find out  _why_  he hid behind those walls, find out precisely  _who_  he was, and she was relentless because there was something about him that she liked, something about him that called to her, attracted her to him. To this day he still had no idea why, of all the people in the world, she chose him…but he was thankful that she did, because she completed him. She brought out the  _real_  Jackson Overland, coaxed him out from his shell, gave him confidence and strength, and fell for him as he in turn fell for her. He would be ever thankful for every day that Elsa Overland was in his life.

And as they walked hand in hand towards his smiling godparents and their inviting, Christmassy home, he was reminded of something he had asked her on their honeymoon, when they embraced each other in bed, her head on his chest and her fingers tracing circles on his right shoulder as the moon shone through the balcony door of their hotel in Norway…

" _Why me? You could have given up on me at any time, but why did you want to get to know me?"_

And her answer?

" _It's simple, Jack. When there is something you want but it's so cold to the touch, if you hold it for long enough…"_

"… _you find its inner warmth."_

_\- fin -_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD what a ride.
> 
> I would like to take this moment to thank everyone that has kudos'd, commented, or hell, simply read my humble fic. It's overwhelming.
> 
> I'm kind of sad that it's at an end, but kind of glad in a way.
> 
> Furiyan out!


End file.
